CHAPTER XII

In the Tower

The Duchesses of Northumberland and Suffolk did their best to make my mistress give in to their will and consent to be made queen, but her pure, brave heart could not be forced by severity and harsh treatment; those ambitious, callous-hearted women might kill her body--it was a frail one--but they could not conquer her mind or bend her spirit; it required another force, the holier one of love, with its softening, penetrating influence to do that; and love, her love for her husband, Lord Dudley, and obedience to his commands it was which finally succeeded where all else had failed.

'I could not resist my dear lord, Margery,' she confessed to me, when early the next morning I at last obtained access to her bedroom. 'God forgive me if I am doing wrong,' she said. 'But Paul the Apostle taught us that the head of the woman is the man, and that a wife's duty is to obey----' She paused, looking at me piteously, and I saw that in her own mind, in spite of her words, she was not yet convinced.

'And it is for the good of the nation, madam,' said I.

'It is for no good I fear, Margery,' said my mistress, sighing deeply. 'And it is neither prudent nor just.'

I knew that she was thinking of Plato's words, 'Justice with prudence we shall by all means pursue,' and my heart ached for her.

'How can I wear the crown which lawfully belongs to another?' she moaned. 'But it will not be for long. Princess Mary is away from London just now, having fled for her life, until she can rally her party. But she will return, I know, and the justness of the nation will place her at its head--for it is idle talk about the slur on her birth. Her mother was lawfully married to King Henry, and it was only for his own vicious ends that he put her away. However, Margery, we must leave all this, for it is no use dwelling upon it now that I have promised Lord Dudley to obey his wishes.'

She sobbed again and again, as we dressed her regally for the grand doings of that day, and every sob went to my heart and made me echo it, until she ceased weeping to wipe my tears away, and Mistress Ellen said I was nothing but a hindrance, and began to rate me sorely.

When Lady Jane was dressed for the ceremony--I had almost said sacrifice--she looked wondrously young and lovely. Her figure was tall, slight and well proportioned, giving promise of great beauty. Her dress--which the duchesses had brought with them for the occasion--was a gown of cloth of gold trimmed with pearls, a stomacher blazing with diamonds and other precious stones, and a surcoat of purple velvet bordered with ermine. Her train was of purple velvet and was also edged with ermine and richly embroidered in gold. Her slender and swan-like throat was encircled with a carcanet of gold set with rubies and pearls, from which hung one almost priceless pearl. Her headdress was a coif of velvet adorned with rows of pearls and bound together by a circlet of gold.

I had never seen such grand attire in my life and was feeling quite overwhelmed by it, when Mistress Ellen said in my ear, 'I like not so many pearls. It is said they mean tears, and truly our mistress was tearful enough in the putting of them on. God grant that she may not also take them off in tears!'

Lady Jane lingered a little in her room when we had dressed her, as if reluctant to quit it.

'I have been often very happy here,' she said wistfully, 'and I know not what the future may have in store for me.'

I wished then, and I wished often afterwards, that I could have spoken out and told her all that Sir Hubert would have said to her if he had had the chance, but could only think of some of his words and of those Lady Caroline Wood had made me promise to say, and therefore faltered--

'Dear madam, do not think of yourself now, but only of the people of England. You know it is for their good that you are going to sacrifice your own wishes.'

'For their good!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Margery, if I could think it was for their real good I could go cheerfully to death if needs be!'

'Who is talking of going to death on this joyful occasion?' exclaimed Lord Guildford Dudley, entering the room after a hasty knock at the door. 'For shame, Jane, to croak in that way at the very moment of your elevation to the first place in the land.'

Lady Jane flushed a little at the reproof, but instantly smiled with her usual sweetness, then a look of admiration came into her eyes as they fell upon her husband.

He was magnificently attired in white cloth of gold, and wore a collar of diamonds, and his handsome face and manly figure, with the indefinable air of chivalry which characterized both him and his father, made him appear to us to look truly regal.

His eyes swept appraisingly over his young wife's beauty and her gorgeous dress, then, with a little bow and a whispered compliment, he offered his arm and took her downstairs into the great hall thronged with highborn gentlemen and ladies.

Mistress Ellen and I were perforce separated from Lady Jane, as our place was taken by great Court ladies, but when the cavalcade, of which Lord Guildford Dudley and Lady Jane were the centre started for London, we formed part of the vast following of servants and dependants.

So they took my precious mistress in great state, first of all to Northumberland House in the Strand, the residence of her father-in-law, where she received the homage of many of her chief subjects, and afterwards, with her husband and the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, and other magnates, partook of a great State banquet, the grandeur of which seemed to me truly amazing and like unto a fairy tale.

In the midst of it all, having been overlooked and being bewildered and afraid, Mistress Ellen and I would perchance actually have suffered hunger if Sir Hubert Blair and Sir William Wood, who were among the Duke of Northumberland's following, had not found us out and got a place for us among some fine Court ladies, with whom, to my joy, was Lady Caroline Wood.

'This is a great day,' she said, 'Mistress Margaret, for England and for her,' and she looked across the table to Lady Jane's pale though beautiful face.

'Yes, indeed,' I rejoined, beginning my repast with all haste, for many of those present were finishing, and the claims of hunger made themselves felt.

'It was one to which we were looking forward when you visited our castle,' she went on, 'and one for which that visit prepared you.'

I coloured a little as I ate my soup, fearing lest she should inquire if I had done my best to prepare Lady Jane's mind for the part she was to play, but a true lady is careful not to embarrass another, so my companion went on chatting pleasantly while I ate and drank, and it was only when I ended that she inquired if my father's consent had been obtained to my betrothal to Sir Hubert Blair. I answered in the affirmative, and thereupon she fell to praising Sir Hubert with such zest that I loved her dearly and thought, after my dear mistress, she was the nicest kindest woman I had ever seen.

And then, the banquet being over, and the Duke of Northumberland having collected his retinue, the whole cavalcade, of which Queen Jane, as they now called her, and her consort were the centre, proceeded in a grand procession to the Tower of London, where it is customary for the monarchs of England to begin their reign.

I cannot describe all the details of what made the most gorgeous state-procession that I ever saw, as I only caught glimpses of part of it from where I had my place beside Lady Caroline Wood and Mistress Ellen. But I know a troop of halberdiers, wearing velvet caps and fine doublets embroidered with the royal blazon woven in gold, and bearing staves covered with crimson velvet and adorned with golden tassels, in two long files lined the way from Northumberland House to the Thames, where the royal barge awaited us, for we were to go to the Tower by water. Cloth was laid down between these files of halberdiers for the procession to walk over, trumpets blew a great flourish, the sound of which met and mingled with the music of musicians on the water. The City Guard, the Garter King-at-Arms, the Knights of the Bath, in their accoutrements, the Judges in their scarlet and coifs, the Bishop of Ely who, being Lord Chancellor, wore a robe of scarlet, the Lord Mayor in crimson velvet, with many more illustrious, gaily-dressed persons, were followed by two venerable ecclesiastics, Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Ridley, Bishop of London, in their surplices and snowy lawn sleeves, and then the Dukes of Northumberland and Suffolk, richly dressed, and the royal party.

It was a brilliant scene, although the sun was overclouded and the day gloomy with the signs of an approaching storm, and the air was full of music and trumpeting and the sounds of movement and revelry. One thing, however, smote us to the heart, and that was that although the streets were packed with onlookers no joyful cries of greeting to Queen Jane, no caps thrown in the air, no waving of hands and handkerchiefs betokened the joy of a people catching sight of its sovereign for the first time. True, murmurs of sympathy and admiration were to be heard when the youth and beauty of the royal lady were perceived. But it was only too evident that she was not the queen the nation desired.

'The silence of the people is ominous,' whispered Lady Caroline to me, 'I trust our queen does not observe it.'

'She cannot fail to notice it,' I returned. 'Oh, why could they not let her remain a private lady as she was before? Why need they drag her into this prominent position? She did not want to be a queen. She swooned when first the idea was made known to her----'

'But you had prepared her mind,' began Lady Caroline.

I did not heed the interpretation, but went on to describe how, on coming out of her swoon, my mistress begged and implored that she might not be made queen. I only spoke in a whisper, but my companions, fearful of my being overheard, made haste to stop me, and I could see that they did not wish to hear what I was telling them, their hearts being set upon Queen Jane's accession to the throne.

As our barge, following the royal barge, slowly passed along the river, I was greatly struck by the beauty and grandeur of the mighty city through which we were passing. I had never seen London before, and its gardens and stately palaces, spires and towers of churches, gateways, towers, drawbridges, houses, mills and chapels, and, last but not least, the noble old cathedral of St. Paul's,[1] presented to me a panorama of picturesque and beautiful scenes.[2]

[1] The old cathedral which was burnt to the ground.--ED.

[2] London in the old days must have been strikingly beautiful and picturesque, the gardens of the fine old mansions and palaces extending down to the riverside, and the air being clear and clean, undimmed and unpolluted by smoke.--ED.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when Queen Jane arrived at the Tower, her advent to that fortress being heralded by a deafening roar of ordnance, coming from the batteries, which was answered by the guns of several ships at anchor in the river.

Trumpets blew and bells rang, also, as Queen Jane landed, but there was still the same ominous silence of onlookers, who, in small and large boats, hovered around.

As the young queen walked into the Tower the Duchess of Suffolk, her mother, bore her train, the Lord Treasurer presented to her the crown, and her relations saluted her on their knees.

The thunder crashed, and the storm without spent itself upon the lingering sightseers, but Queen Jane was in the Tower, and when I caught sight of her face for a moment I saw that all traces of fear and sorrow had passed from it, leaving only the calm and lofty expression of one who, possessing her own soul in patience, 'holds to the road that leads above' in spite of every earthly distraction.