CHAPTER XVII

THE NINE DAYS’ REIGN

As soon as Jane Grey and her escort had entered the royal apartments of the Tower, the heralds trumpeted, and a few minutes later (it was close on six o’clock), four of them read the new Queen’s proclamation, one of the most tedious State documents in existence, and the first in which a woman claims the title of “Supreme Head of the Church.”[221] The ceremony of solemn proclamation within the precincts of the Tower once over, other heralds proceeded for the same purpose to Cheapside and the Fleet. In Cheapside, a potboy who was heard to disapprove of the wordy document, and of the expression “bastard” applied to the Lady Mary, was arrested, and treated after a fashion quaintly described by Machyn,[222] who says, “there was a young man taken that time for speaking of certain words of Queen Mary, that she had the right title. The xj day of July, at viij of the clock in the morning, the young man for speaking was set on the pillory, and both his ears cut off; for there was a herald, and a trumpeter blowing; and incontinent he was taken down, and carried to the Counter; and the same day was the young man’s master dwelling at Saint John’s head, his name was Sandor Onyone, and another, master Owen, a gun-maker at London Bridge was drowned, dwelling at Ludgate.”[223]

It is curious that the original of this unique proclamation should have passed into the hands of Cecil, who endorsed it with the significant words--“_Jana non Regina_.”

From every point of view, Queen Jane’s proclamation was ill-advised. It was prodigiously long-winded, even for that period, and the manner in which it dealt with the claims of Mary and Elizabeth, brutal in frankness, was well calculated to offend the Catholic Powers, and cruelly wound the personal feelings of the late King’s sisters. Queen Mary’s resentment is proved by the stern simplicity of the language of the death-warrant of Northumberland, Lady Jane, and Guildford, which allows none of them the vestige of a title. Elizabeth, in later life, never alluded to her cousin Jane without bitterness. Jane was, of course, perfectly innocent of the offensive wording of this document,[224] but it nevertheless bore her signature. The sentence which infuriated the Princesses ran as follows: “And, forasmuch as the said limitation of the Imperial Crowne of this Realme, being limited as is aforesaid to the said Lady Mary and the said Lady Elizabeth, being illegitimate the marriage between the said King Henry VIII our progenitor and great uncle, and the Lady Katherine, mother to the said Lady Mary, and also the marriage between the said late King Henry VIII and the Lady Anne, mother to the said Lady Elizabeth, being very clearly undone by sentence of divine, according to the word of God, and the ecclesiastical laws. The Ladies Mary and Elizabeth are to all intents and purposes divested to claim or challenge the said Imperial Crown or any other honours, etc., appertaining thereunto, etc.”

This proclamation, as well as most of the other official documents of Jane’s reign, which are generally attributed to Northumberland, was, we may take it for granted, edited by the celebrated Sir John Cheke, who entered the Tower at the same time as Lady Jane and was her Secretary throughout the whole of her nine days’ reign. We have already mentioned in more than one place this distinguished Greek scholar, who had been for a time tutor to Edward VI, over whom he had a great influence, and by whom he was knighted at the same time that the Marquis of Dorset was elevated to the Dukedom of Suffolk in 1551. At the period of Jane’s misfortunes he was between thirty-nine and forty years of age, greatly in favour with his royal pupil, and holding the office of Clerk to the Council; so that when there was a talk of Cecil resigning his secretaryship, Cheke was, on 2nd June 1553, appointed a principal Secretary of State, Cecil however continuing in office; and on 11th June, Cheke sat in the Council for the first time as Secretary. It is probable that Northumberland suggested his nomination to the King, for the express purpose of interesting a diplomat of such ability in the forthcoming conspiracy to place Jane on the throne. He was far too high-minded a man to be influenced by pecuniary motives, but undoubtedly his zeal for the Reformation was such that he desired the advent of Jane, which meant a continuance of the Reformation, rather than the coming of Mary, which he fully realised would be disastrous to it. Cheke’s appointment to the office of Secretary of State gave great joy to the Reformers, and Ascham, then in Brussels with our Ambassador, Morysone, wrote him a laudatory letter, in which he congratulates England, the State, Cambridge, and St. John’s College on having produced so learned and worthy a man! Great must have been Cheke’s delight when he beheld Queen Jane, the hope of Protestantism, actually enthroned in the Tower; and it must have been a consolation to Lady Jane to have about her so capable and at the same time so upright a man--one devoted, not only to her personally, but especially to the cause she represented. Cheke tried to induce the cunning Cecil to take an active part in the Government; Strype says, “He checked his brother Cecil who would not be induced to meddle in this matter, but endeavoured to be absent.”

Before this, the first day of her reign, came to a close, Jane signed a letter to William Parr, Marquis of Northampton, Lord Lieutenant of Surrey, informing him of her entry into the Tower “this day.” After the usual preamble concerning the death of Edward, the document proceeds: “we are entered into our rightful possession of this kingdom, as by the last will of our said dearest cousin our late ancestor ... now therefore do you understand we do this day make our entry into our Tower of London as rightful queen of this realm, and have accordingly set forth our proclamation to all our loving subjects, giving them thereby to understand ... their duty of allegiance which they now of right owe unto us ... nothing doubting, right trusty and well beloved counsellor, but that you will endeavour yourself in all things to the uttermost of your power, not only to defend our just title, but also assist us ... to disturb, repel, and resist, the feigned and untrue claim of the Lady Mary, bastard daughter to our great uncle Henry th’ Eight, of famous memory.”

This missive was later on shown to Mary, and increased her resentment against Jane, whose signature it bore, and also against Northumberland, who drew up the original draft, though the copy Jane signed was made by some clerk, perhaps by Sir John Cheke. Cecil was, therefore, wise to number the composition of this compromising epistle among the many dangerous offices out of which he contrived to shuffle; for it is certainly to this letter to Northampton that he refers in his “Submission,” by the words, “I eschewed the writing of the Queen’s Highness, _bastard_, and therefore the Duke (of Northumberland) wrote the letter himself which was sent abroad in the Realm.” The Duke so fully appreciated the dangerous nature of the document, that later on he endorsed the clerk’s copy of it with the words, “_Jana non Regina_”--just as Cecil did with the proclamation.[225]

All her State duties over, the young Queen supped in state at a small table on a dais, the Duke of Suffolk on her right, the Duke of Northumberland on her left, and the two Duchesses opposite to her. She was indisposed, and retired early, the whole company rising as she left her seat.

The following morning (11th July) there was a violent scene[226] between Jane, her husband, and his mother. So far as can be ascertained, the marriage had not hitherto gone beyond the stage of ceremony, and Guildford Dudley and his bride had never lived as man and wife. The Duchess of Northumberland insisted that this state of affairs should cease, resolving that “her son should share the new Queen’s bed and throne, and forthwith assume the title of King Consort.” With this object, the ambitious parent and her docile son made a sudden incursion into Jane’s chamber, whilst she was still seated at her toilet. The Duchess vituperated her daughter-in-law, using coarse and violent language; the would-be King was noisy and impertinent! But Jane stoutly refused to grant the latter part of the Duchess’s request. “The Crown,” she said, “was not a plaything for boys and girls. She could make her husband a Duke, but only Parliament could make him a King.”[227] On these words the Duchess burst into a fury, and paced angrily up and down the floor, swearing her strongest oaths, that her son should be King, whether Jane would or not. Guildford, who was boyish, began to cry, and left the room. Jane had to endure another scene of the most unpleasant description with the Duchess, in the midst of which Guildford, still sulking, returned. His mother presently caught his hand and drew him out of the room, saying “she would not leave him with an ungrateful wife.”

Thereupon Jane sent for the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, and asked their advice. They apparently approved of the line she had taken, and going to young Guildford, informed him he must on no account leave the Tower, nor agree to the Duchess’s proposal that he should separate from his wife, and return with her (_i.e._ his mother) to Sion House. It is quite probable that if he had done so, his life would have been spared.

Lady Jane’s account of this stormy interview is as follows: “The Lord High Treasurer, Winchester,” says she, “brought me the regalia and the Crown, the which were neither demanded by _me_ nor by any one in _my name_[228]; he desired to place it on my head to see how it fitted. This I declined with many protestations; but he said, ‘I might take it boldly, for that he would have another made to crown my husband with.’ Which thing I certainly heard with infinite grief, and displeasure of heart. As soon as I was left alone with my husband I reasoned with him, and after we had had a great dispute he consented to wait till he was made King by me and Act of Parliament.” Jane then relates what we have already said--how she sent for the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, and the scene with the Duchess and her threat of carrying Guildford off to Sion; also how the two Earls were charged to keep Guildford from going there. “And thus,” concludes the narrative, “I was compelled to act as a woman who is _obliged_ to live on good terms with her husband; nevertheless I was not only deluded by the Duke and the Council, but maltreated by my husband and his mother.”

Disregarding Jane’s prudent advice, her ambitious young husband nevertheless did his best to get himself recognised King of England. In the minutes of a dispatch which must have been written during the nine days’ reign of his wife, and is addressed to the Duchess-Regent of the Netherlands by Guildford’s directions, he recalls Sir Thomas Chamberlayne (English Minister in that country) and desires that “in all _his_ (Guildford’s) affairs” full credit be given to Sir Philip Hoby.[229] One of the first acts, therefore, of Jane’s Council was to nominate Sir Philip, then at Brussels, as successor to Chamberlayne; this nomination is signed “Jane the Quene.” Jane herself, true to what she said to her mother-in-law and to Guildford, does not appear to have recognised her husband as King, for no mention of him appears in such of her official documents as have come down to us. All the same, Guildford contrived to get his claims accepted by some Continental notabilities. On learning of the death of Edward VI, Sir Philip Hoby and Sir Richard Morysone,[230] the English Commissioners in Flanders,--who had doubtless been primed beforehand by Northumberland,--wrote from Brussels to the Privy Council (under date of July 15th) that “The xiii^h of this presente, Don Diego found me Sir Phillipe Hobby (Hoby), and me Sir Richard Morysone, walkyne in our hostes gardene.” This Don Diego Mendoza[231] was a member of the Spanish administration in the Low Countries, an old personal friend of the Dudley family, and, as already stated, godfather to young Guildford, who had, of course, been baptized a Catholic. On the occasion of this meeting with the Englishmen, the Spaniard, after the usual condolences on the death of Edward VI, passed to praises of that monarch’s wisdom in providing England with so good a King, meaning not “Jane the Quene,” the rightful heiress of the Realm, but Guildford Dudley.[232] The truth may be that Diego said nothing of the kind, and that the English diplomats simply put these words into his mouth, to confirm the Council in its allegiance to Jane, and make it look on Guildford as the King, by creating an impression that his right to the throne was admitted by leading men on the Continent. Don Diego Mendoza told the Commissioners (they said) that his condolences on the occasion of the death of King Edward and his offers of service “to the kyng’s majestie” (Guildford) had been retarded, by the advice of the Bishop of Arras, a member of the Ministry at Brussels. “Therefore says he (_i.e._ Don Diego, quoted by the Commissioners) do I (feel) sorry that you lose so good a King, so much do I rejoice that ye have so noble and toward a _Prince_ to succeed him, and I promise you, by the word of a gentleman, I would at all times serve His Highness myself if the Emperor (Charles V) did call me to serve him (_i.e._ “allow me to do so”).” The English Envoys inform the Council that they told Don Diego “they had received the sorrowful news (of the death of Edward VI) but the glad tidings (of the “accession” of Guildford) were not as yet come unto us by letters”--which was probably true, so far as official intimations of them went. Upon this Don Diego replied: “I can tell you this much. The King’s Majesty (Edward VI), for discharge of his conscience, wrote a good piece of his testament with his own hand, barring both his sisters of the Crown, and leaving it to the Lady Jane, near to the French Queen (that is to say, “related to Mary Tudor, Queen of Louis XII of France”). Whether the two daughters be bastards or not or why it is done, we that be strangers have nothing to do. You are bound to obey and serve His Majesty (Guildford Dudley), and therefore it is reasonable (that) we take him for (_i.e._ “to be”) your King, whom the consent of the nobles of your country have declared for (“to be”) your King, and,” he continued, “for my part of all others, I am bound to be glad that His Majesty is set in this office. I was his godfather, and would as willingly spend my blood in his service as any subject that he hath, as long as I shall see the Emperor willing to embrace (His) Majesty’s amity.” “Don Francisson (Francesco) de Este, general of all the footmen Itallyanes (Italian Infantry),” the Commissioners add, “is gone to his charge in mylland (”Milan“), who, at his departure, made the like offer, as long his master and ours should be friends, which he trusted should be ever, praying us at our return to utter it to the King’s Majesty (Guildford), and will (we) humbly take our leave of your honours.”

It is obvious that, if Diego de Mendoza ever really used the words attributed to him in this letter, and did not merely lend his name to the English Commissioners, he must have been well “coached” by the Dudleys in what he was to say, though his close connection with Guildford as his godfather would naturally incline him to credit anything in his favour. Still, knowing Northumberland and Suffolk’s deep scheming, one cannot suppose that Mendoza’s enthusiasm for Guildford’s illegal claim to royal honours and his haste to admit it was entirely uninspired by outside influences. It is, indeed, a significant fact that Ascham, a great friend of the Duke of Suffolk, and very intimate with the inner workings of English politics, who had been sent abroad as Secretary to Morysone in 1550, was still in Brussels with that knight in the summer of 1553. It is more than probable, therefore, that Ascham, being in correspondence with Suffolk, knew beforehand of the forthcoming elevation of Jane to the throne, and, on behalf of the Duke, advised Hoby and Morysone as to what they should say and do when that event took place, and also had an interview with Don Diego to the same end. We may be certain, however, that Ascham did not countenance the Catholic side of the question.

This letter from the Commissioners was not written until 15th July, and by the time it reached England the political scene had changed. It damaged Guildford’s position seriously by its revelation of the schemes of the Dudleys and their party, who, not content with placing Northumberland’s daughter-in-law on the throne, were also seeking to crown that nobleman’s youngest son. From certain documents in the Belgian and Viennese Archives it would appear that Diego de Mendoza went so far as to address the Emperor directly on the subject of Guildford’s right to the throne, even assuring him that his godson would become a Catholic.

A strong searchlight has been thrown on this hitherto rather obscure passage in the history of this period by the learned Editor of this work, in his interesting volume, _Two Queens and Philip_.[233] The author, it is true, had suspected that Northumberland must have had some strong foreign support in his audacious attempt to usurp the throne, ostensibly for Lady Jane, though in reality for his own son, Guildford, but Major Martin Hume’s researches in the Spanish Archives have proved beyond a doubt that Charles V was backing him throughout in his perilous undertaking, and this against the interests of his own cousin, Mary Tudor.

The Swiss Reformers, and especially Bocher, doubted the sincerity of Northumberland’s Protestantism, and it is not at all improbable that he had promised the Emperor that, should he succeed in placing Guildford Dudley on the throne and Jane as Queen-Consort, he would veer round to the Catholic party and re-establish papal supremacy in England.

The Emperor had sent the Sieurs de Courrières and Renard as Ambassadors to our Court in the last year of Edward VI. Whether they were deceived by Northumberland or were genuinely of the opinion that the chances of Mary’s succession were very remote and that Jane’s party was infinitely the strongest, we know not, but the Emperor, acting on their advice, backed Northumberland for all he was worth up to the very day that he was captured at Cambridge and conveyed a prisoner to London. Bearing these facts in mind, the almost incredible story which we have just related concerning Guildford’s attempt to secure the throne for himself becomes intelligible.

On the other hand, Northumberland had apparently done nothing to obtain favour for poor Jane’s own Envoys, sent to announce her accession to the Courts of Paris and Vienna, for no sooner had those gentlemen reached the cities in question than they were refused recognition and turned back. The elder Dudley, selfishness incarnate, cared little for the dignity of his daughter-in-law, if only his son might be proclaimed King.

In the Museum at Hastings there is the impression of a hexagonal seal which was to have figured on the State documents of “Queen Jane and King Guildford Dudley.” Under an arched crown, between the initials “G. D.” (Guildford Dudley)--a striking proof of the extent to which his claims to the Crown were carried--are two escutcheons, one to the left bearing the royal arms of England, lions and fleurs-de-lys, and the other to the right, two animals, probably bears, grappling a ragged staff, the arms of the Dudleys. Properly speaking, according to heraldic rule, the royal arms should be on the right and the family arms on the left. Doubtless the mistake was due to the haste with which this seal was prepared. Under the escutcheons are the words “Ioanna Reg,” and on either side the date 1553. The matrix of this seal seems to have been lost; at least, its present whereabouts are unknown.

On the 11th of July the Council wrote afresh to the Commissioners (Hoby and Morysone) telling them of the “signification of our sovereign lord’s death,” and remarking that, “although the Lady Mary hath been written unto from us (_i.e._ in answer to her letter of the 9th), yet nevertheless we see her not so weigh the matter that if she might she would disturb the state of this realm, having thereunto as yet no manner apparent of help or comfort but only the connivance of a few lords and base people: all others the nobility and gentlemen remaining in their duties to our sovereign lady Queen Jane. And yet, nevertheless, because the conditions of the baser sort of people is understood to be unruly if they be not governed and kept in order, therefore for the meeting with all events, the Duke of Northumberland’s grace, accompanied with the Lord Marquis of Northampton, proceedeth with a convenient power into the parts of Norfolk, to keep those countries in stay and obedience, and because the Emperor’s ambassadors here remaining shall on this matter of the policy not intermeddle, as it is very likely they will and do dispose themselves, the Lord Cobham and Sir John Mason repaireth to the same ambassadors, to give them notice of the Lady Mary’s proceeding against the state of this realm, and to put them in remembrance of the nature of their office, which is not to meddle in these causes of policy,[234] neither directly nor indirectly, and so to charge them to use themselves as they give no occasion of unkindness to be ministered unto them, whereas we would be most sorry, for the friendship, which on our part, we mean to conserve and maintain. And for that grace the ambassadors here shall advertise the others what is said to them.... The xi^{th} of July, 1553.”

This document was followed, next day, by an official letter to the Commissioners, signed by Jane, and outlining what they were to say to the Emperor as to the foreign policy to be pursued hereafter:--

“TRUSTY AND WELL-BELOVED,--We greet you well. It hath pleased God of his providence, by the calling of our most dear cousin of famous memory, King Edward the VI^{th}, out of this life, to our very natural sorrow, that we both by our said cousin’s lawful determination in his lifetime, with the assent of the nobility and state of this our realm, and also as his lawful heir and successor in the whole blood royal, are possessed of this our realm of England and Ireland.”

Then comes a recommendation of the bearer of the letter, a Mr. Shelley; the confirmation of Hoby’s appointment--“the whole number of our ambassadors shall there remain to continue to dwell in the former commission which ye had from our ancestor the King,” and an order that Hoby shall make this clear to the Emperor, and assure him that the friendship between England and the Emperor shall be continued as hitherto.

Worry, anxiety, and annoyance soon brought on a relapse of the illness from which Jane had lately suffered. Her pains at last grew so acute that she again fancied the Duchess of Northumberland had poisoned her. Possibly this illness accounts for our hearing so little of her doings during the second, third, and fourth days of her short reign (11th, 12th, 13th of July). “Twice,” she writes, “was I poisoned, once in the house of my mother-in-law,[235] and afterwards in the Tower; the venom was so potent that all the skin came off my back.” This idea was evidently only the result of the fever, which caused the skin to peel. Trouble had so reduced the poor girl, no doubt, that she fell an easy prey to the fevers so prevalent in and about the Tower, as long as the moat remained uncovered.

On the 11th the Council received a letter from Mary, dated from Kenninghall 9th July, stating she had heard of her brother the King’s death, and was surprised that she had not known it sooner, and adding her intention to cause her right and title to be published, and proclaimed accordingly. The letter declared the Princess aware of the Council’s desire to undo her claims, but added that she was willing to grant pardon, and closed with an order to the Council to have her proclaimed in the City of London and other places. The Council’s reply was a masterpiece of “bluff.” It ran as follows:--

“MADAM,--We have received your letters (of) the 9th of this instant, declaring your supposed title ... to the Imperial Crown of this Realm, and all the dominions thereunto belonging. For answer whereof, this is to advertise you, that for as much as our Sovereign Lady, Queen Jane is after the death of our Sovereign Lord Edward the 6th, ... invested and possessed with the just and right title in the Imperial Crown of this Realm, not only by good order of ancient laws of this Realm, but also by our late Sovereign Lord’s letters-patent, signed with his own hand, and sealed with the Great Seal of England, in presence of the most part of the nobles, councillors, judges, with divers other grave and sage personages, assenting and subscribing to the same. We must, therefore, of most bound duty and allegiance assent unto her said Grace, and to none other, except we should, which faithful subjects cannot, fall into grievous and unspeakable enormities. Wherefore we can no less do, but for the quiet both of the Realm and you also, to advertise you, that forasmuch as the divorce made between the King of famous memory, Henry VIII and the Lady Katherine, your mother, was necessary to be had, both by the everlasting laws of God, and also by the ecclesiastical laws, and by the most part of the noble and learned universities of Christendom, and confirmed also by the sundry acts of Parliament, remaining yet in their force, and thereby you justly made illegitimate and unheritable to the Crown Imperial of this Realm ... you will, upon just consideration hereof, and of divers other causes lawful to be alleged for the same, and for the just inheritance of the right line and godly order, taken by the late King our Sovereign Lord King Edward the VI, and agreed upon by the nobles and great personages aforesaid, surcease by any pretence, to vex and molest any of our Sovereign Lady Queen Jane her subjects, from their true faith and allegiance unto Her Grace; assuring you, that if you will ... show yourself quiet and obedient, as you ought, you shall find us all and several ready to do you any service that we with duty may.... And thus we bid you most heartily well to fare.

“Your ladyship’s friends, showing yourself an obedient subject.”

This document was signed by the following members of the Council: “Thomas Canterbury, the Marquis of Winchester, John Bedford, Will. Northampton, Thomas Ely, Chancellor; Northumberland, Henry Suffolk, Henry Arundel, Shrewsbury, Pembroke, Cobham, R. Rich, Huntingdon, Darcy, Cheney, R. Cotton, John Gates, W. Peter, W. Cecill, John Cheeke, John Mason, Edward North, R. Bowes.” Of all the signatories of this letter, not more than four, if so many, remained true to Jane to the last!

On 12th July, the second day after Jane’s entry into the Tower, the Marquis of Winchester brought her unwilling Majesty a curious collection of miscellaneous articles of jewellery, the contents of sundry boxes and caskets, deposited at the Jewel House in the Tower, and which had belonged to Henry’s six queens. Jane, despite her poor health, was constrained to examine these things. The caskets contained, amongst other articles, “A fish of gold, being a toothpick. One dewberry of gold. A like pendant, having one great and three little pearls. A newt of white silver” (that is to say, a silver ornament wrought in the form of a lizard or eft). “A tablet of gold with a white sapphire and a blue one, a balas ruby, and a pendant pearl. A tablet of gold hung by a chain with St. John’s head, and flat pearls. A tablet with our Lady of Pity, engraved on a blue stone. A pair of beads of white porcelain, with eight gauds of gold, and a tassel of Venice gold. Beads of gold with crymesy (crimson) work. Buttons of gold with crimson work. Six purse hangers of siver and gilt” (these were to hang purses or trinkets to the girdle, like the modern chatelaine). “Five small agates with stars graven on them. Pearls in rounnels of gold between pivots of pearls. Pipes of gold. A pair of bracelets of flaggon chain (pattern), connecting jacinths of orange coloured amethysts. Many buttons of gold worked with crimson, and in each button set six pearls. Thirty turquoises of little worth. Thirteen table diamonds set in collets of gold. An abiliment set with twelve table diamonds” (these were the borderings of the caps like those of Anne Boleyn, or even of the round hood which was the fashion that succeeded them). “Forty-three damasked gold buttons, and a clock or watch set in damasked gold, tablet fashion,” close the list,[236] but Winchester affirms that he delivered to Jane, on 12th July, not only these, but the regalia[237] and other jewels, together with a supply of cash, books, and even clothes.

About this date, too, Lord Guildford Dudley was sent a quantity of the Crown jewels, possibly as an earnest of his future dignity. They certainly cost him dear!

A curious inventory exists at Hatfield, of stuffs delivered to “the Lady Jane Grey, usurper, at the Tower by commandment over and above sundry things already delivered to her by two several warrants.” These goods were her own personal property, evidently left by her at Westminster Palace on the occasion of some visit, of which no record now exists. The stay in question must have occurred very shortly before Edward’s death, and the things may have been forgotten in the confusion attendant upon his last illness. The inventory is endorsed by Sir Andrew Dudley and Sir Arthur Sturton, deceased, Keeper of the Palace at Westminster, and was made, according to custom, on the day of the King’s death, when seals were put on the doors of every apartment in the royal palaces, not to be lifted till the King’s burial, after which such articles as belonged to persons in waiting or servants were delivered, after verification, to their various owners. The list of goods and chattels belonging to Lady Jane is a very lengthy one, and we will only make a few quotations, to give a glimpse of the contents of her wardrobe and her minor possessions:--

“Item, a muffler of purple velvet, embroidered with pearls of damask gold garnished with small stones of sundry sorts and tied with white satin.

“Item, a muffler of sable skin with a head of gold with 4 clasps set with five emeralds, four turquoises, six rubies, two diamonds and five pearls, the four feet of the sable being of gold set with turquoises and the head having a tongue made of a ruby.

“Item, a hat of purple velvet embroidered with many pearls.

“Item, a hat of black velvet laced with aglets (tags), enamelled, with a brooch of gold.

“Item, a cap of black velvet, having a fine brooch with a square table ruby with divers pictures enamelled in red, black and green.

“Item, eighteen buttons with rubies.

“Item, eighteen gold buttons.

“Item, a helmet of gold with a face, and a helmet upon its head and an ostrich feather.

“Item, three pairs of garters having buckles and pendants of gold.

“Item, one shirt with collar and ruffles of gold.

“Item, three shirts--one of velvet, the other of black silk embroidered with gold, the third of gold stitched with silver and red silk.

“Item, a piece of sable skin.

“Item, two little images of wood, one of Edward VI, and the other of Henry VIII.

“Item, a dog collar wrought with red work with gold bells.

“Item, a picture of Lady of Suffolk in a gold box.

“Item, a picture of Queen Katherine Parr that is lately deceased.”

This list also contained some articles which must have belonged to Guildford, for it is not probable that Lady Jane ever possessed “a sword grille of red silk and gold” or “a Turkey bow and a quiver of Turkish arrows,” or “a white doublet and hose of silk and velvet.” The number of clocks contained in this list is very remarkable:--

“One fair striking clock standing upon a mine of silver; the clock being garnished with silver and gilt, having in the top a crystal, and also garnished with divers counterfeit stones and pearls, the garnishment of the same being broken, and lacking in sundry places.

“One alarum of silver enamelled, standing upon four balls.

“One round striking dial, set in crystal, garnished with metal gilt.

“One round hanging dial, with an alarum closed in crystal.

“One pillar, with a man having a device of astronomy in his hand, and a sphere in the top, all being of metal gilt.

“One alarum of copper garnished with silver, enamelled with divers colours having in the top a box of silver, standing upon a green molehill a flower of silver, the same altar standing upon three pomegranates of silver.

“One little striking clock, within a case of letten, book fashion, engraven with a rose crowned, and _Dieu et Mon Droit_.”

The articles enumerated were brought to Lady Jane at the Tower, during her imprisonment, after her brief reign was over, and having ascertained their agreement with the Inventory, she signed that document, which was returned, and came into the possession of Cecil, and now lies, as we have said, among the State Papers at Hatfield. The fact that the list contains a reference to articles evidently belonging to Guildford Dudley points to his having accompanied Lady Jane to Court, and shared his wife’s apartment. Probably the object of the visit had been to bring Jane under the King’s immediate notice, and influence him to name her in his will, as his chosen successor.

It had evidently been decided that the young Queen was not to tarry long in the gloomy palace prison, for some of the documents drawn up during the “nine days” have spaces left blank for the insertion of some other royal residence. Besides, when Jane appointed her brother-in-law, Lord Ambrose Dudley, to be her palace-keeper at Westminster, in lieu of his uncle, Sir Andrew Dudley, one of his first wardrobe orders was for twenty yards of purple velvet, twenty-five of Holland cloth, and thirty-three of coarser lining to make her robes, “against her removal from the Tower.”

On the night of 12th July, according to Machyn, “was carried to the Tower iij carts full of all manner of ordnance, as great guns and small, bows, bills, spears, mores-pikes, arnes [harness or armour], arrows, gunpowder, and wetelle [victuals], money, tents, and all manner of ordnance, gun-stones a great number, and a great number of men of arms; and it had been for a great army toward Cambridge;”[238] in other words, all these things were provided for the use of a great army, to proceed to Cambridge. These warlike preparations were made none too soon, for on the following morning, 13th July, news reached the Tower that the rival Queen was at Kenninghall, on the borders of Suffolk and Norfolk, and that the men of Norfolk, knights and squires alike, were scurrying in their hundreds along the dusty lanes, to offer Mary their lives and service. In brief, the guilty inmates of the Tower, the would-be rulers of the realm, learnt to their consternation that throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom the people were against Queen Jane, and for Queen Mary. The Council was hastily assembled, and it was at once decided that the Lords Robert Dudley and Warwick were too young and inexperienced “for such difficulties as these.” The first proposal was, that the Duke of Suffolk should leave the Tower, and take command of the troops; but Queen Jane, alarmed for her own safety, insisted she needed her father, and could not do without him. His age and bad health were also factors in the final decision that Northumberland would, after all, be the best man to send.[239] The Duke left Her Majesty in charge of the Council, and swore one of his big oaths that when he came back “Mary should no longer be in England, for he would take care to drive her into France, or----” He took a passionate leave of his son Guildford, holding him in a long and tender embrace, pressing his head in his hands, and kissing him again and again. Did it flash across the father’s mind that he might never see his darling son again?

Northumberland ordered the troops he was to command, which were to be raised by the various noblemen adhering to Jane’s party, to meet him at Newmarket. He gave a sort of farewell dinner to the Council in the Tower on the 13th, opening the banquet with a threatening speech to his guests. “If you do not keep your oath, or if you turn traitor to Jane,” said he, “God shall [will] not acquit you of the sacred and holy oath of allegiance, made freely by you to this virtuous lady, the Queen’s Highness, who by your and our enticement is rather of force placed therein [_i.e._ “in the position of Queen”], than by her own seeking and request. But if ye mean deceit, though not herewith but hereafter, God will revenge the same. I can say no more.” This was perhaps fortunate, for some of the assembled gentlemen certainly did “mean deceit.” The Duke concluded by asking the Council to “wish him no worse speed in his journey than they would have themselves.” One of the members of that august body replied in the following terms: “My Lord, if ye mistrust any of us in this matter [the forcing Jane to become Queen], Your Grace is far deceived; for which of us can wipe his hands clean thereof? And if we should shrink from you, as one that is culpable [of having forced Jane to assume the crown], which of us can excuse himself as guiltless? Therefore herein your doubt is too far cast.” Northumberland was not offended by these ambiguous remarks, and merely added, “I pray God it be so. Let us go to dinner.” When this--as we should imagine--rather gloomy banquet was over, Northumberland sent a messenger to Jane at the Tower, and received by his hand his commission as “Lieutenant of the Army.” As he passed through the Council Chamber on his way to Durham House for the night, he encountered the Earl of Arundel, “who prayed God to be with His Grace, saying he was sorry it was not his chance to go with him and bear him company, in whose presence he could find in his heart to spend his blood even at his feet; and, taking Thomas Lovel, the Duke’s boy, by the hand, he added, ‘Farewell, gentle Thomas, with all my heart.’ Then the Duke, with the Lord Marquis of Northampton, the Lord Grey, and divers others, took barge and went to Durham Place and to Whitehall, where they mustered their men.”[240] Next morning, Friday, 14th July, the Duke and his followers rode proudly forth,[241] with a train of guns and a body of six hundred men, led by some of the greatest in the land; such as Lord Edward Clinton, the Marquis of Northampton, the Earls of Warwick, Huntingdon, and Westmoreland, the Lords Grey de Wilton, Ambrose and Robert Dudley, Sir John Gates, and a score of others, equally influential, the majority already tried in war. As the glittering troop, armed with the motley collection of weapons brought to the Tower two days before, passed through the city and along Shoreditch, Northumberland noticed that, great as the crowd was, it was sullen, no one greeting the troops and their leaders with anything like enthusiasm. “The people,” he remarked surlily to Sir John Gates, “press to see us, but no one bids us God speed.”

On the day her father-in-law left the Tower, only to return as a condemned prisoner, the Lady Jane--whose occupations from the time of her stormy interview with her mother-in-law up to this point are nowhere recorded, except for her inspection of the Crown jewels--signed a number of letters and documents of considerable importance. She wrote to the Duke of Norfolk, for instance, demanding his allegiance and commanding him to come to her Court as Earl Marshal, and confirming his titles and honours if he proved loyal to her. The original of this letter is in the possession of Mr. Wilson of Yorkshire. The body of the document is in Northumberland’s hand, and must have been drafted some days previously, but the signature is Jane’s. She next signed a warrant for the appointment of Edward Baynard as Sheriff of Wiltshire in lieu of our old friend, Sir William Sharington, “lately deceased.” This curious and little-known document is in the possession of Mrs. Alfred Morrison, and is exceedingly curious. The body of the text is in the hand of a Secretary, but the name is in Lady Jane’s handwriting and the signature is an autograph. Curiously enough, on 6th July Queen Mary had made the same appointment: later, she issued a proclamation to the effect that “no document, appointment, payment, or gift of land or money made by Jane Dudley,[242] usurper,” should be considered valid; but Baynard’s nomination, however, held good, as we find from the Pipe Rolls of the County of Wiltshire for 1553. It is strange that Baynard should have been appointed by both the rival Queens, though this may be accounted for by the fact that he is said to have been a Wiltshire man and popular in his neighbourhood.

Bad news reached London that evening, and before Queen Jane retired to rest she knew her fortunes were in jeopardy and she herself rapidly ceasing to be Queen, even in name. Presently a messenger informed the Council that the men of Bucks, under Lord Windsor and Sir Edward Hastings, were rising for Queen Mary. Still worse news flew Londonwards on Saturday, the sixth day of Jane’s disastrous reign. Queen Mary had been proclaimed at Framlingham and Norwich. Northumberland, perceiving his weakness, had sent to London for fresh troops, and was himself speeding as fast as horse could gallop towards Cambridge, which he reached at midnight.

So complete and rapid was the collapse of Jane’s cause that even the most carefully planned precautions taken in her interest ended by serving her foes. Her partisans, for instance, fearing Mary might escape by sea, had ordered six men-of-war to cruise off the east coast, intercept her flight, and bring her back a prisoner. The weather suddenly became so stormy that the vessels were driven into Yarmouth Roads just as a body of men was being levied in that town for Mary’s support. The sailors of the squadron, who had landed, bribed with money and strong ale to abandon their ships and join the levy, handed over their vessels to Sir Henry Jerningham, one of the staunchest supporters of the Tudor Princess, who, being thus supplied by her enemies with money, ammunition, and a train of artillery,[243] marched forthwith against Northumberland, who was soon fain to fall back towards Cambridge, where he fancied himself safe in Trinity College, with his friends Drs. Sandys, and Parker, and Dr. Bill. As a matter of fact, his enemies, declared and secret, were as numerous and formidable in Cambridge as elsewhere; but during the momentary lull which ensued he flattered himself with false hopes, and plied the Council with demands for money and men, many of his followers having deserted him at Bury to join the enemy. Yet all the time Cecil[244] was betraying him at every point. Nothing can exceed the cunning and treachery he displayed--so deep and cruel that one cannot but feel some pity for Northumberland, notwithstanding his many crimes and faults. When Cecil was forced to order his horsemen to take the field against Mary, he contrived to have them ambushed and attacked, and thus rendered quite useless to the Duke and harmless to his opponents. The Council informed Northumberland of the miscarriage of Cecil’s men; but the letter fell into the hands of Mary, who inquired of Roger Alford, Cecil’s confidential servant in attendance on her, why her master, whom she evidently knew to be playing traitor to Jane, had sent troops against her. Alford, so he says, “being privy to the matter before (hand), laughed, and told her [Mary] the matter,”--that Cecil had never intended his men should do any harm to her cause, but had simply sent them as a “blind” to make Northumberland think the Council was doing all in its power to send him reinforcements, and thus spur him forward to his ruin. Under such circumstances, the Duke’s position soon became desperate. “He would sit moodily in his chair lost in thought, then starting up, would pace the room, muttering to himself.”

Dr. Sandys and several of his friends in Cambridge asked him to sup with them on the Saturday night, and spoke in a very friendly manner about Lady Jane. He shook his head, rose from the table, and seated himself in a vacant chair; remained there a long time in silence, and in deep depression; and, when his entertainers bade him good-night, took their hands in his, and begged them severally to pray for him, “for he was in great distress.”

Sandys had been appointed to preach before the Duke on the following morning (Sunday, 16th July). Before retiring to rest, the learned Doctor, intending to choose a text, took up a Bible, which fell open at the first chapter of Joshua, the verse that met his eye being, “All that Thou commandest we will do, and wheresoever Thou sendest, so will we go.” “Upon which text he preached the next day with such discretion that he [Northumberland] got not such full advantage of him as he had hoped.” On the Monday the Duke went with his men to Bury. Their “feet marched forward, but their minds moved backwards”; in other words, they were but a half-hearted set, and one by one they deserted all through the day, hiding behind hedges and in ditches, till when evening came, the Duke, heart-sore and heavy, rode back to Cambridge almost alone, “with more sad thoughts than valiant soldiers about hym.” Realising that all was lost, he bethought him of a dramatic, or rather theatrical, trick to save himself. He conceived the idea that if he went to London and fell at the Queen’s feet, she would welcome and forgive him. Had she not pardoned many rebels? and was he worse than any of these?

Presently, considerably cheered by his own but erroneous reflections, he betook himself, accompanied by the Mayor and Dr. Sandys, to the market cross, where the crowd greeted him in silence, “more believing the grief in his eyes, when they let down tears, than the joy professed by his hands, when he threw up his cap,” full of gold coins, into their midst. This show of tardy loyalty--produced by the arrival of the news of Mary’s growing power--having failed in its effect, Slegg, the Sergeant-at-Arms, accused him of treason, and brought him back a prisoner to King’s College.[245]

On the morning of the 21st of July, according to Machyn, the Earl of Arundel, as treacherous a man as any in that nest of vipers, who, a week before, had knelt before Northumberland and sworn to shed his blood for him and for Queen Jane, came rapping at his door before he was up. The Duke, huddling on a cloak, went out to him, and seeing him look so threatening, fell on his knees, praying him to be good to him and merciful. “For the love of God, my lord,” said he, “consider that I have done nothing but by consent of the Council.” “My Lord Duke,” quoth the Earl of Arundel, “I am hither sent by the Queen’s Majesty, and in her name I arrest you.” Whereupon the Duke, rising, said, “I obey; but I beseech you, my Lord Arundel, have mercy towards me, knowing the case as it is.” “My good lord,” quoth the Earl, “you should have sought for mercy sooner. I must do according to the commands that have been given to me,” and upon this he took the Duke’s sword and committed him in charge of the guard and other gentlemen that stood by. The miserable Duke went to breakfast with not much appetite, looking as white as a ghost and feeling most wretchedly ill. Towards evening, under an escort of eight hundred men, he left Cambridge with Sir John Gates and Dr. Sandys--both prisoners--still wearing his red cloak wrapped about him and suffering agonies from gout in the feet. As night fell, it began to rain; and down long country roads, under the lowering clouds, went the weird procession of rough troopers on horseback, footmen with their pikes, and in their midst the tall, gaunt, grim figure of the Duke, his soaked and tattered red cloak clinging about his bent shoulders. He is said to have spent the night in a barn, to be moved on to London the next day, entering the city early in the morning, 25th July, just as the shopkeepers were taking down their shutters. His plight must have been pitiable, for in the streets men, recognising him, jeered at him as a “Traitor,” threw mud on his red cloak and scowled at him, calling him Somerset’s murderer, and so scaring him that he was almost thankful to reach the Tower and its comparative safety. He had gone forth in proud security, certain of success, sure he was about to punish his enemies and reward his friends. He came back, cold and miserable, knowing he had sacrificed his youngest son to his ambition; that the fate of his other children and of the unhappy Jane hung in the balance; and that the only friend left him in the world was his faithful wife, who was at that moment on her knees to Queen Mary, pleading for mercy and receiving none, her husband’s offence being deemed too great for pardon. That night surely, in the solitude of his prison in the Beauchamp Tower,[246] the Duke flung himself on his knees, and prayed the long-neglected prayers of his childhood, the _Pater Noster_ that was now said in English, and the _Ave Maria_ that had gone out of fashion altogether!

Meanwhile, on Sunday the 16th (the seventh day of Queen Jane’s reign) there was no rest throughout the whole length and breadth of England; everywhere the people were rising for Queen Mary. In the streets of the metropolis there was great cheering and rioting, even bloodshed. Bonfires were lighted in the streets, and crowds of rough men and loose women whirled round the lurid flames shouting, “Queen Mary! Queen Mary!” In the churches, the claims of the rival Queens and rival Creeds occupied the preachers. At Paul’s Cross, Bishop Ridley preached against Queen Mary[247] and the Scarlet Woman, and in favour of Jane and the Reformation. At St. Bartholomew’s, a Catholic priest told his congregation to kneel down and thank God that the victory was with Queen Mary; while at Amersham, in Buckinghamshire, John Knox thundered forth in favour of Queen Jane--but all his eloquence, and that of her other defenders, was in vain: the people would have Queen Mary, and Queen Mary only. Late this Sunday night a curious incident occurred. The Tower had been shut up for the night, when suddenly Jane, dreading perhaps some unexpected rising, ordered the outer gates to be locked and the keys carried up[248] to her chamber. Then the guards were informed that one of the Royal Seals was missing; and Jane had the lately closed gates unbarred, to send a body of Archers of the Guard after the Marquis of Winchester, who had left the precincts about seven o’clock for his house in Broad Street. They found him in bed, forced him to rise and dress himself, and brought him back about midnight to the Tower, where, it is said, he had to explain matters to Lady Jane, who connected him with the loss of the Seal. The whole incident is somewhat mysterious. Did the poor little Queen fancy Winchester was contemplating some move like that of Somerset when he practically assumed the Kingship at Hampton Court? Winchester undoubtedly bore Jane no particular good-will, and the interview, if it occurred, was probably somewhat stormy.

The eighth day of the reign, Monday the 17th, opened with a violent scene in the early morning between the Duchesses of Northumberland and Suffolk, who wrangled over Guildford and his Kingship. Poor Jane was most miserable: her eyes were red with weeping, and she looked more dead than alive as she endeavoured to calm her belligerent Grace of Northumberland and reason with her own headstrong and domineering parent. By this time everything and everybody in the Tower were at sixes and sevens. No one seemed to know what to do or say. In the midst of it all came bad news from the country, where the peasants, notwithstanding the threats of their lords and masters, were refusing to take arms against Mary. Trouble was drawing unpleasantly near.[249] On the previous day (Sunday, 16th) some ten thousand of Mary’s adherents, many of them county notables, had assembled at Lord Paget’s house at Drayton, and marched to Westminster Palace, which they sacked of its arms and ammunition, “for the better furnishing of themselves in the defence of the Queen’s Majesty’s person and her title.” Paget, whose house was this army’s headquarters, was at this time, be it observed, amongst the party in the Tower and ostensibly loyal to Jane! Meanwhile, the people, at one with that section of the nobles who would have none of poor Jane, were shouting, in London and all over the land, “God save Queen Mary!”--whilst poor Jane’s name was never heard except to be scoffed at. The “nine days’ Queen” was now nothing but “a mock.”

On Tuesday (the 18th) it was patent that the drama--or rather, tragi-comedy--was drawing to a close. Of all Queen Jane’s Council only two men, Cranmer and her own father, remained true to her; and the former left that afternoon for Lambeth and Croydon. Winchester, Arundel, Pembroke, Paget, and Shrewsbury, to save their necks, had by this time definitely decided to betray the cause of the girl whom they had helped to put on the throne--and of these men, two, Arundel and Pembroke, only nine days before, had knelt before her at Sion House, protesting their loyalty and belief in her right to the crown! This day, however, Jane signed an order to Sir John Brydges and Sir Nicholas Poyntz that those officers should raise forces, “with the same to repaire with all possible spead towardes Buckinghamshire, for the repression and subdewing of certain tumultes and rebellions moved there, against us and our Crowne by certain seditious men.” This order is now to be seen in the British Museum, Harleian MSS, No. 416, f. 30.

On Wednesday, 19th July, the short reign ended--“Jane the Quene” became “_Jana non Regina_.” Yet still there was a flicker of Queendom, for that morning, information being received from the Lord Lieutenant of Essex, Lord Rich, that the Earl of Oxford, who was then in Essex, had thrown in his forces with Mary, Sir John Cheke, Queen Jane’s Secretary of State, wrote a letter, to which the treacherous Lords of the Council affixed their signatures, requiring Oxford “like a noble man to remain in that promise and stedfastness to our sovereign Lady Queen Jane, as ye shall find us ready and firm with all our force to maintain the same: which neither with honour, nor with safety, nor yet with duty, we may now forsake.” This morning, too, commenced the betrayal, when Winchester, the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Privy Seal, Arundel, Shrewsbury, Pembroke, Sir Thomas Cheney, Sir John Mason, and Sir John Cheke waited on Suffolk, as the principal leader in Northumberland’s absence, and desired leave to depart from the Tower so as to confer with the French Ambassador about the foreign mercenaries[250] who were to come over and aid Northumberland[251]--at that moment awaiting arrest at Cambridge! Their zeal evidently touched Suffolk, who granted them leave to depart. No sooner had they left the grim fortress behind them than they proceeded straight to Baynard’s Castle,[252] where, having sent for the Lord Mayor, they were presently joined by that dignitary, with the Recorder and some of the Aldermen. The proceedings of this improvised Council opened with an attack on Northumberland’s ambition and scheming, delivered by Arundel,[253] and then Pembroke drew his sword, and cried out, “If the arguments of my Lord Arundel do not persuade you, this sword shall make Mary queen, or I will die in her quarrel.” This speech was much applauded, and Mary’s proclamation was signed by all present. The conspirators then had Mary publicly proclaimed Queen at the Cross in Cheapside by four trumpeters and two heralds in their gorgeous coats. This took place about five or six in the evening--the very hour at which Jane’s accession had been published nine days earlier! The proclamation in the Chepe concluded, the Councillors proceeded to St. Paul’s for evensong and the singing of the _Te Deum_, whilst Cecil,[254] Arundel, and Paget were sent to pay the Council’s homage to Mary. Now that the people had absolutely nothing to fear from the broken power of Jane, they gave wild vent to their feelings. The bells of the city churches, swung with a right good will, sounded a welcome to the coming reign; bonfires blazed in every street. One of those attacks of spontaneous feverish enthusiasm which seize nations from time to time, even in these prosaic days, took hold of London. Tables were dragged into the thoroughfares, that all might sit down and drink to the health of her Catholic Majesty. Money was dispensed freely by the rich; and “the number of cappes that weare throwne up at the proclamacion wear not to be tould.” Most enthusiastic and excited of all was my Lord Pembroke, who filled and refilled his cap with small coin to be scrambled for by the mob. He could afford to be liberal: he knew Mary would reward him well for his share in her proclamation. London was a very pandemonium that night. “For my tyme,” says a contemporary news-letter,[255] “I never saw the lyke and by the reporte of otheres the lyke was never seen.... I saw myself money was thrown out at windows for joy. The bonefires were without number; and what with shouting and crying of the people, and ringing of bells,[256] there could no one man hear what another said; besides banketyng [banqueting] and skipping the street for joy.”[257]

Archbishop Cranmer is said to have been the last of Jane’s Council, then resident in the Tower, to leave it, which he did in the course of 19th July, after a sad leave-taking with Lady Jane. His position in the Janeite conspiracy has been severely criticised by more than one historian, and by none more than by Lord Macaulay. He had been instrumental in aiding Northumberland to overthrow Somerset, probably because he disliked the latter’s Calvinistic tendencies, and regarded him as a stumbling-block in the way of his proceedings for the establishment of a more moderate and orthodox Church of England. After the death of Somerset, the Archbishop became one of Northumberland’s chief supporters, and, as Macaulay points out, covered himself with lasting obloquy by his attempt to seduce an innocent girl into a treasonable career which was to lead to her ruin. In her eyes he was something more than a political Councillor--an Apostle of the Lord--and his advice no doubt told with her above that of any one else. The next time they met, Cranmer was a prisoner on his way to Guildhall,[258] whither she too was tramping on foot to hear her doom, approved of by most of the men who had been her chief Councillors, read out before the multitude of Queen Mary’s friends and supporters.

There was little joy and much grief within the Tower. Presently a messenger to Suffolk from Baynard’s Castle came to tell him that the nobles there assembled required him to deliver up the Tower, and proceed to the Castle to sign Mary’s proclamation. They also ordered Lady Jane to resign the title of Queen. Instantly Suffolk abandoned the unequal struggle; leaving the Lieutenant in charge of the Tower, he went out, telling his men to leave their weapons behind them. He himself announced Mary’s accession on Tower Hill, and then, going to Baynard’s Castle, he signed her proclamation. This done, the wretched man returned to the Tower to tell his daughter that her Queenship was a thing of the past. Jane, meanwhile, having promised Edward Underhill, the famous “Hot Gospeller,” then on duty in the Tower, that she would act as godmother that day to his infant son, who was to be christened Guildford, and being herself too ill to attend the baptism, commissioned Lady Throckmorton to go in her stead. Lady Throckmorton left the royal apartments and proceeded to St. John’s Chapel (some say All Hallows’, Barking), leaving Jane surrounded by the insignia of royalty--the cloth of estate, the throne, and all that marked her position as Queen. When her ladyship returned, these had all been removed; for _the_ Queen of England had not yet arrived in London, and her subject, “Jane, the usurper,” no longer sat on the throne. During the absence of Lady Throckmorton Suffolk had rushed back to his daughter. He found her alone in the Council Chamber, seated, forlorn, under her canopy of State. “Come down from that, my child,” said he; “that is no place for you.” Then he gently told her all; and gladly did poor Jane rise and quit her hateful office. For a moment father and daughter stood weeping, locked in each other’s arms, in the centre of the deserted hall, through the open windows of which, borne on the summer air, came the exulting shouts of “Long live Queen Mary!”

Then, after a pause, Jane Grey spoke four simple words, sublime in their pathos. “Can I go home?” she asked ingenuously. God help her! what a world of innocence was in that little sentence, “Can I go home?” Alack! alas! poor little victim of so much ambition and such damnable intrigue, there is no more earthly home for thee!