As Jane’s barge arrived at the Tower steps and she alighted, she was at last confronted with her people. It was a beautifully sunny day, but if she had been hoping for a warm reception she was to be disappointed. Three new Imperial ambassadors from the court of the Emperor Charles V had recently arrived in order to support their colleague, Jehan Scheyfve, and as supporters of the Lady Mary, they gleefully informed their master that ‘no one present showed any sign of rejoicing, and no one cried: “Long live the Queen!” except the herald who made the proclamation and a few archers who followed him’.6 The ambassadors’ reports were, unsurprisingly, biased in Mary’s favour. Nevertheless, they were remarkably well informed, and on this occasion they were quite right. Even the best efforts of a crier who declared that both the Lady Mary and the Lady Elizabeth were illegitimate, and that the Lady Mary would try to revert the realm to Catholicism if she became queen, did not stir the crowd in Jane’s favour, and they remained in stunned silence. This was hardly surprising, for Jane was virtually unknown in the realm. Apart from her occasional visits to court during King Edward’s reign, she had not been raised in the public eye or as heir to the throne. Unlike the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth, she was not the daughter of a king, but merely a niece. Jehan Scheyfve was right when he said that the ‘lady [Mary] is loved throughout the land’, and though Jane inspired warmth and affection in many of those who knew her, at this moment that meant nothing.7 Her queenship having been thrust upon her involuntarily, she was then confronted with the faces of these glum Londoners staring at her in dismay, and it must have been somewhat disconcerting – but there was no means of escape. What was more, the people understandably associated her with Northumberland, who ‘is hated and loathed for a tyrant’, which only served to heighten her unpopularity.8 As Jane had emerged from the royal barge, her rich and elaborate train was carried by her mother, Frances. For her, whose claim to the throne was in terms of blood stronger than Jane’s own, carrying her daughter’s train must have been a rather strange experience. Moreover, the behaviour of Jane’s parents drew comment from an anonymous eyewitness, who recalled how extraordinary it was to see a ‘living mother and father, neither king nor queen’ speak ‘humbly and to serve her on their knees’.9 However, Frances had resolved to do all she could to support her daughter, and Jane would surely have been comforted by her familiar presence among the hostile crowd.
Fortunately not all of those gathered were disappointed to see her, and as Queen Jane approached the Tower entrance, whose guns were fired in salute, she ‘was received at the door by the Duke [Northumberland] who, kneeling, put the keys in her hands’.10 The Council had also arrived to welcome her, saluting their queen on bended knees in a public display of solidarity and loyalty likely engineered to encourage the crowd to follow suit, while Guildford watched ‘hat in hand’, perhaps hoping that they would soon be paying him similar obeisance as the Queen’s husband.11 In an attempt to enforce Jane’s new heightened status, Northumberland had decided that her arrival at the Tower ought to be as grand as possible; a magnificent display of contrived propaganda with which to convince the people of Jane’s right. The Imperial ambassadors grudgingly conceded that the ceremony that followed her arrival was conducted with ‘accustomed pomp’, while her supporters made great displays of deference to her.12 The Duke wanted to ensure that nobody was left in any doubt as to who was to be queen, and it was not Mary. However, the cool reception of the people did not go unnoticed, and it worried him.
Though there are no surviving physical descriptions of Jane’s features, it is clear that, at this most crucial moment in her life, appearances meant everything. Simply described as ‘virtuous, wise and good looking’ by the French ambassador, Antoine de Noailles, on this most important occasion Jane would have been elaborately dressed in rich materials, perhaps edged with ermine, the fur reserved for royalty, and covered with a sparkling array of jewels in order to showcase her heightened status.13 An anonymous observer at the Tower described Jane as ‘a beautiful young woman, pretty and endowed with intelligence, educated and well dressed’.14 Furthermore, the chronicler Richard Grafton, who was undoubtedly familiar with Jane, described her as ‘that fair lady whom nature had so not only beautified, but God also had endowed with singular gifts’.15 Grafton had been the King’s Printer during the reigns of both Henry VIII and Edward VI, and was a supporter of Jane’s. More than that, he printed the proclamation of Jane’s accession, proudly signing himself ‘Printer to the Queen’.16 Though he favoured Jane, Grafton’s description is verified by other reports, so it seems probable that it is relatively accurate. Perhaps Jane had also inherited some of the features that distinguished the Tudor family: the red hair and fair skin that were evident in her great-uncle, Henry VIII, and her cousin the Lady Elizabeth. While many portraits have been claimed to represent her, in truth no authenticated likenesses of her are known to still exist.
Though she may have seen it, it is unlikely that Jane had ever visited the Tower before. Situated to the east of the city and described as ‘the strongest castle in the kingdom’, the Tower had, in recent years, acquired a chilling reputation as a prison, and place of torture and execution.17 It was here that Anne Askew, that female martyr to the Protestant faith to which Jane was so devoted, had been tortured by her great-uncle’s Councillors, her flesh torn and limbs stretched on the rack as she refused to recant. On the other hand, there was no doubt that, as the strongest fortress in London, the Tower was equally as capable of keeping people out as it was at detaining those within. It was for this reason that it had been chosen as Jane’s base until she could be crowned at the imposing Westminster Abbey, which it was rumoured would be in ‘a fortnight or more’.18 Her path was still littered with danger, and it was by no means certain that she would be accepted as queen. But there was no turning back now, and as Jane entered the Tower’s precinct, surrounded by her family and her Council, she was wrought with uncertainty as to what would happen next.
Once inside the Tower, Jane and Guildford were taken to the Royal Apartments where they were to be lodged, and which as queen she now had every right to occupy. The apartments stood next to the White Tower, overlooking a fragrant ornamental garden reserved for the monarch’s use, and formed part of a lavish complex which had been refurbished by Jane’s great-grandfather Henry VII, and more recently by Henry VIII just over two decades earlier.19 However, by the time of Jane’s arrival the Royal Apartments had not been used for some time, for though it was traditional for a monarch to lodge there before their coronation, as a residence the Tower had fallen out of use. Both Henry VIII and Edward VI preferred the more modern and palatial residences of Greenwich, Whitehall and Richmond – now Jane’s palaces. Royal Apartments they may still have been, but the golden threads of their tapestries were starting to fade, and they were beginning to fall into a state of disrepair. In a chilling twist, the rooms had recently been used as prison quarters to house two of Henry VIII’s wives, Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard, prior to their executions. For Jane the Tower was full of reminders of her forebears, both in life and in death.
The Royal Apartments consisted of the Presence Chamber, used by the monarch to receive visitors, a dining chamber and a bedchamber, all of which had been decorated in the rich antique style so popular during the Renaissance period. Jane’s parents may also have been lodged within the apartments so that they could be close to their daughter, something of a relief for Jane, especially as she was soon to discover a side to her husband’s character that she did not like.
Jane was barely given time to settle into her new surroundings before she was conducted to the Presence Chamber, where her Council were waiting to greet her. She was still getting used to the displays of obeisance, her Councillors falling to their knees as she sat on the splendid throne beneath the canopy of state. The most prominent members besides Northumberland and her father were William Parr, Marquess of Northampton; Henry FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel, who was Jane’s uncle by marriage; William Herbert, Ear
l of Pembroke; John Russell, Earl of Bedford; Francis Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury; Sir William Paget; Francis Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon; William Paulet, Marquess of Winchester; and Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury.20 With the possible exception of the Earl of Arundel and perhaps William Parr, none of these were men that Jane is likely to have known well, and despite the reverence with which they treated her, in the circumstances in which she now found herself, their behaviour may have been overwhelming. Without a moment’s respite to adjust to the view from her throne, Jane was then confronted with the most tangible sign of monarchy: the Crown Jewels. The opulent sceptre of gold and the ‘round ball with a cross of gold’ that had been stored in the Jewel House gleamed, but were overshadowed by the splendour of the crown.21 Though she had not asked for it, Pollini reports that the Marquess of Winchester, who was also Lord High Treasurer, presented Jane with the crown, glittering with gold and precious stones, which had been used at the coronation of her forebears for centuries, and asked her permission ‘to put it on my head to try whether it really became me or no’.22 Until this point Jane had been remarkably composed, and had done all that had been asked of her despite her ill feelings. Now, however, alarmed by the sight of the crown, and to the astonishment of everyone present, she refused to allow Winchester to place the crown on her head. The enormity of the situation finally hit her, and she panicked. ‘Your Grace may take it without fear,’ Winchester tried to reassure her, and after some further persuasion Jane finally tried it on.23 In that moment, Jane, resplendent with her royal crown, appeared to all of those present to be the undoubted Queen of England. It brought her no pleasure, however, and she was greatly troubled when Winchester then proceeded to tell her that ‘another also should be made, to crown my husband’.24 Jane did not reply, but neither did she forget Winchester’s comments, which she ‘heard truly with a troubled mind’, and caused her ‘infinite grief and displeasure of heart’.25 She had already realized that her father-in-law’s intention had always been to have his son crowned alongside her, and thus to rule through them. But though she had not yet said it, Jane was absolutely determined that she would not allow this to transpire. Although she still struggled with her new role as queen, she was already beginning to make some crucial decisions as to how she would rule.
At five o’clock, shortly after Jane’s arrival at the Tower and her first dramatic introduction to queenship, amid ‘a great display of heralds and halberdiers [men armed with a combined spear and battleaxe]’, a proclamation was made in four parts of London ‘of the death of King Edward the sixth, and how he had ordained by his letters patent that the Lady Jane should be heir to the Crown of England’.26 The people listened but remained unconvinced. Nobody wanted Jane to be queen, and they were convinced that she had cheated the King’s daughters, namely Mary, of their rights. As one of the Imperial ambassadors observed, ‘I was present in person when the proclamation was made, and among all the faces I saw there, not one showed any expression of joy.’27 According to Rowland Lea, in addition to the proclamation,
[c]riers at the street-corners published an order given under the Great Seal of England, which, by the new Queen’s authority, declared the Lady Mary unfitted for the Crown, as also the Lady Elizabeth. Both ladies were declared to be bastards; and it was stated that the Lady Mary might marry a foreigner and thus stir up trouble in the kingdom and introduce a foreign government, and also that as she was of the old religion she might seek to introduce popery.28
A printed proclamation was also prepared for distribution across the country, declaring Jane to be the true ‘Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and of the Church of England and Ireland the supreme head’.29 This made little difference, for the loyalty of the people did not lie with Jane, and the Imperial ambassador concluded his report to the Emperor Charles V: ‘Thus your Majesty may gather the state of feeling in England towards the Lady Mary.’30 Mary had always been popular, and there were still those who remembered her mother, Katherine of Aragon, with affection. Despite the stigma of illegitimacy, she was still considered by many to be Henry VIII’s legitimate daughter and thus Edward VI’s natural successor. They were furious that the upstart Northumberland was attempting to deprive her of what many considered to be her birthright. For the time, however, Northumberland appeared to hold the winning hand.
Back inside the safety of the Tower’s walls, Jane was aware of the people’s hostility as she prepared herself for a lavish banquet held in her honour that evening. As if she had not already had enough to cope with, the already tense atmosphere became infinitely worse with the arrival of a messenger. Thomas Hungate, ‘bordering on old age’, was a ‘faithful servant’ of the Lady Mary, and it was from her that the message came.31 Unbeknown to the Council, Mary had heard of the death of her halfbrother, thus her message was a simple one: ‘her demands were that they should belatedly renounce Jane, falsely styled queen, and recognise and welcome herself as their undoubted liege lady’.32 As they listened, everyone in the room was ‘astonished and troubled’, and ‘the Duchesses of Suffolk and Northumberland, it is said, began to lament and weep’.33 It was Hungate, however, who having ‘bravely delivered’ Mary’s demands, immediately felt their effect on Jane’s Council.34 Turning on the ageing man, Northumberland berated him: ‘Hungate, I am truly sorry that it was your lot to be so immature and thus rashly to throw yourself away in this embassy.’35 With that, Hungate, ‘second to none in his obedience and diligence’ to Mary, was led away to a prison cell, while the Council deliberated over what to do.36 Jane was now Queen of England, but there was still a long way to go. The hearts of the people were very much with the Lady Mary, as the reactions of the Londoners on that day at the Tower revealed. Besides that, Mary had already made it clear that in her eyes there was only one queen, and it was not Jane.
IN THE EARLY days of July, the Lady Mary waited anxiously for news of her half-brother King Edward’s health at her manor of Hunsdon in Hertfordshire.37 While she was there, ‘she got wind of the aristocratic conspiracy aimed at her destruction’, and, learning that her half-brother was close to death, consulted with her trusted and loyal advisors.38 Though she initially set off for Greenwich Palace upon receiving the summons of the Duke of Northumberland, she was quickly warned ‘by those most loyal to her’ that it was a trap, and that she ought to avoid the capital at all costs.39 Thus there was only one course of action open to her. In order ‘to escape as soon as possible from the jaws of her enemies’, on the day of King Edward’s death she secretly fled with just a handful of her supporters.40 Mounting her horse and spurring it on as fast as was possible, Mary and her party rode towards East Anglia where she was both popular and a great landowner. It was a wise decision. Three days later she reached her house of Kenninghall, and it was here that she received the definitive news from a medical practitioner named John Hughes – ‘a weighty man worthy of belief’ – that King Edward was dead.41 What was more, her worst fears were confirmed: though the Council had accepted that England’s next monarch would be a queen, it was not Mary to whom they had declared their allegiance, but her cousin Jane. An overwhelming array of emotions confronted Mary, but now was not the time for grief. Though she could have attempted to head for the coast and flee abroad, where she would surely receive sanctuary from her cousin the Emperor, at this point Mary did no such thing. Robert Wingfield reported the course of action she decided upon:
With her usual wisdom the lady now perfectly judged the peril of her situation, but nothing daunted by her limited resources, she placed her hopes in God alone, committing, as they say, the whole ship of her safety, bows, stem, sails and all, to the winds of fortune, and firstly decided to claim the kingdom of her father and her ancestors, which was owed to her as much by hereditary right as by her father’s will.42
Mary had decided to fight, and East Anglia provided her with the ideal base. Summoning her household, she informed them of the death of King Edward, which meant that ‘the right to the Crow
n of England had therefore descended to her by divine and by human law’, and graciously asked for ‘the aid of her most faithful servants, as partners in her fortunes’.43 Inspired by her words, her household ‘cheered her to the rafters and hailed and proclaimed their dearest princess Mary as queen of England’.44 That evening, she entrusted her servant Thomas Hungate with a letter to the Council in which she set out her intentions by demanding their allegiance:
We require you and charge you, and every of you, that every of you, of your allegiance which you owe to God and us, and to none other, for our honour and the surety of our person, only employ yourselves, 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 other places as to your wisdoms shall seem good.45
Any hopes that the Council may have held that Mary would meekly submit to her half-brother’s will were now quashed, for it was certain that she would never accept her young cousin Jane as sovereign, and had decided to fight for her rights.
ASIDE FROM THE sobbing cries of Jane’s mother and the Duchess of Northumberland, on the evening of 10 July there was silence in the Royal Apartments at the Tower, as the Council reeled from the contents of Mary’s letter. Having hoped to have secured Mary’s custody by now, this was the first tangible indication they had received that she would fight back, but it was too late to back down. If the Council had been hoping that Mary would meekly submit to their decision to supplant her, they were sorely mistaken. Jane made no show of emotion at the news, but inside she was in turmoil. Her mind was still disturbed by the earlier events of that day, and the Marquess of Winchester’s remarks about a crown for the use of her husband had struck a particularly raw nerve. But for the moment that would have to wait, for Mary could not go unanswered: it was imperative that some form of response be sent to her cousin. Though many of the Council were greatly troubled by Mary’s words, and were fearful lest she should receive foreign assistance from her cousin the Emperor, urged on by Northumberland they managed to compose a defiant reply. They informed Mary that on Edward VI’s orders, Jane was now Queen of England:
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