The Manner of Amy's Death Page 8

  “And think of poor Guildford. At eighteen he’s separated from his wife Jane and stands little chance of ever seeing her again.”

  “What will happen to us all?” says Amy, shaking her head. It’s not a question that I’d like to answer. Little wonder, I think, that women these days suffer so much from depression with their scheming and ambitious husbands.

  The following morning however Amy’s in good spirits as she sets off with Henry Sidney for the Tower. Henry has already obtained permission from the Lord Lieutenant for her visit and her only problem now is what she should wear! She wants Robert to see her at her best so she chooses the fine gown and velvet kirtle she wore when we left Somerset House in such a hurry in July. She chooses her best French hood with the pearls and embroidery but has to wear her leather riding boots as the day promises to be wet and the paths between the house and the boat jetty will be muddy. With a cloak borrowed from Mary she looks quite the lady once again.

  As she’s going through the door she remembers the two jars of preserve that Mrs Hyde gave her when we left Throcking. A servant brings them in a basket.

  While she’s away Mary sends one of Henry’s men to Somerset House to enquire about our two hastily abandoned chests of clothes. Elizabeth’s servants declare they know nothing of them and say that they must have been stolen by persons unknown during the period of unrest after Jane declared herself Queen!

  Chapter Ten

  Protestation and Unrest

  Amy and Henry are back home by late afternoon. Amy is considerably excited and her cheeks are flushed.

  “The Lieutenant of the Tower was so kind. He smiled at me and showed me to a bed chamber where Robert and I could be together and all alone. He left us there and went to dine with Henry. It was wonderful, Kate. Robert’s in good spirits and we had a whole afternoon together.” She gives me a meaningful look and smiles broadly when she says this.

  “Robert’s sharing chambers with Guildford in the Bell Tower but Guildford is sad because he’s not allowed to see Jane. She’s in a small cottage within the Tower but she’s not allowed outside even though the boys can walk out on the leads. John, Ambrose and Henry are in the Beauchamp Tower. Robert says that the main problem is boredom. They carve on the wooden tables and chests and even on the stone walls, Robert says.”

  Amy’s face then falls and she looks troubled. “Jane and Guildford are awaiting trial. Queen Mary was willing to pardon them all after Northumberland’s execution but Bishop Gardiner and Ambassador Renard are attempting to influence the Queen to punish them. Who knows what that will mean!”

  “Don’t worry, Amy,” I remark, desperately trying to think of something optimistic to say, “Nothing has happened yet and there’s been plenty of opportunity for the Queen to exact vengeance. We have to trust in our Lord Jesus to stand by their side and watch over them.”

  But unfortunately they need more than the help of the Lord.

  Bishop Gardiner’s been pressing for rapid religious changes in church and this has taken the people in the city by surprise. Services are now conducted in Latin as they were ten years ago and the altars are decorated with silver crosses and candles once more. The ritual of worship has been restored and the mass has replaced the evangelical form of communion. Now the bread or host is raised to heaven by the priest at the moment it is transformed into the body of Christ. Even the evangelicals, who had recognised Mary’s right to the throne, have been shocked by the swift reversal of religious practice and there is a growing voice of dissent in the city. Printed pamphlets opposing the changes have been distributed in the city and a dead dog with a shaved head like a monk has been flung through a window into a meeting of the Queen and her Council, much to Queen Mary’s anger and revulsion.

  Even worse there are rumours that the Queen intends to make a marriage with the Hapsburgs and, unbelievably, the name of her young cousin, Prince Philip of Spain, has been mentioned. Henry Sidney has all the news from court and intends to use his knowledge to save Robert and his brothers if he can. Already he’s friendly with Renard and other Spaniards at court.

  “But the Queen’s practically an old lady,” says Amy one evening at supper, “And Prince Philip is still in his twenties. Why would he want to marry her?”

  “Well Queen Mary is thirty seven and could still have a child. Philip is twenty six. There’s an eleven year gap. Not insurmountable. And Philip will have to do whatever his father, the Holy Roman Emperor, tells him,” says Henry Sidney.

  “You would do well to hold your tongue and keep your opinions to yourself,” says Lady Dudley to Amy, “Otherwise you will undo all the good work that Henry and I have done to secure the boys’ release.”

  But as the weeks progress it’s obvious that the protesters in London don’t intend to keep their opinions to themselves. Every day there’s news of another disturbance, another gathering of dissatisfied and mistrustful citizens. Despite the Queen’s reassurances that any marriage she makes abroad would never result in England becoming part of the Hapsburg Empire, the people are not convinced and alarm spreads rapidly.

  Even worse for our family, Gardiner has convinced the Queen to bring Jane and Guildford to trial, together with the old Archbishop, Cranmer, who is imprisoned in the Tower with them. Ambrose and young Henry Dudley are to be tried at the same time. This is not a good sign. Trials for treason are usually forgone conclusions.

  On a cold November day a procession leaves the Tower and winds its way towards Westminster Hall. Amy and I join the crowds along the route. Jane is dressed all in black and carries her prayer book open before her. Another prayer book hangs from her waist. Guilford, who precedes her with Cranmer, is likewise dressed in black; his velvet sleeves are slashed to reveal a white satin lining beneath. At sixteen and eighteen they look such a pathetically young couple. Ambrose and Henry follow behind.

  The crowd is silent as they pass by. No one wanted this. We wait to see what will happen but, when they return, the yeoman leading the procession has turned his axe inwards, a voiceless statement of the guilty verdict. Jane is condemned to be burned alive and the men to suffer the hideous deaths of traitors, to be hanged by the neck, cut down while still alive, disembowelled and their privy parts removed, before they are finally beheaded and quartered. Jane and Guildford are composed as they walk by but women weep at the sight of them.

  “Take heart in this,” I say to Amy as we walk home, “Henry Sidney says that Queen Mary doesn’t want any more executions and he’s doing all he can to gain the support of the Spaniards.”

  “Let’s hope Prince Philip will have the old bat,” says Amy, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one’s within ear shot, “That should sweeten her up.”

  Christmas approaches and during Advent Jane is allowed to take exercise on the green outside her lodgings in the Tower. It’s a good sign and Robert tells Amy that Guildford can see his wife sometimes from the leads. He’s desperate to talk to her again.

  Henry Sidney, of necessity, must spend Christmas at court so we remain at home with Mary and Lady Dudley. It’s a quiet time with none of the usual jollities of the season. We have our Christmas feasts but can hardly enjoy them for thinking of the poor prisoners in the Tower. Still the servants expect to enjoy the rich food that’s sent down from the top table and Lady Dudley is adamant that there should be enough remaining to feed the poor who gather outside. This year there’s plenty of rejected food to go round; our appetites are dulled.

  In the New Year the Spanish delegation comes in force through the city. It’s rumoured that they are here to sign the marriage treaty and, despite a heavy snowfall, people turn out in great numbers to see these dark haired and strangely dressed foreigners. The Spaniards wave regally and in a gentile manner to the crowds but small boys pelt them with snowballs in return. The people go home sorrowfully, shaking their heads with doubt for the future.

  In mid-January, however, comes even more frightening news. In addition to the mounting tide of rebellion in the city over
the question of the Spanish marriage, there are reports of an uprising in the West Country and the Welsh Marches. It’s even said that Jane’s father, the Duke of Suffolk, is trying to raise an army in the Midlands. As January progresses the mood of revolt spreads and the Queen begins to recruit troops to defend the city. By now it’s rumoured that there are French ships assembling off the coast of Normandy awaiting their orders to invade England in support of the rebels.

  By the end of January the rebellions in Devon, Wales and Leicestershire have failed for lack of support and Jane’s father is in the Tower with his daughter once more. However, a knight named Thomas Wyatt has raised an enormous army in Kent and is marching on London from Maidstone. Mary’s soldiers and five hundred Whitecoats from the city set out to meet them south of the Thames. When the two forces meet there is confusion and reluctance by many of the Whitecoats to fight Wyatt and his fellow Englishmen in support of the Spaniards. Many defect to Wyatt’s forces and what is left of Mary’s army is seen by us on its return to London; their jackets are torn and worn inside out to prevent them from being arrested as deserters. They’ve lost their weapons and look very afraid.

  Henry Sidney returns from the court at Westminster, breathless and in a state of agitation.

  “We’re asking the Queen to leave the city and go to the castle at Windsor,” he says. “She’ll have more protection there. We cannot be sure that, when the rebels enter the city, as they surely will, other people will not join them. They have a lot of support. Hastings and Cornwallis are negotiating with the rebels at Deptford and trying to work out a peaceful solution. It may be a good idea for everyone in this house to go to Penshurst where you will all be safe.”

  “And you? What will you do?” asks Mary.

  “I will stay with the Queen of course. I must, Mary. It’s my duty and a greater duty than I have even to you. Already the Queen is saying she will stay at Westminster and lead her forces herself if necessary.”

  “She can’t do that. She’s a woman; only a king can lead an army.”

  “I know and I fear for all of us. There’s every chance that Wyatt will succeed. He intends to put Elizabeth on the throne.”

  “Elizabeth!” gasps Amy. “She’s just as likely to marry a Spanish prince as her sister. Where will that get us? There’ll be a civil war. I might have known that her name would appear in the plot somewhere!”

  “Anyway,” says Mary, “If you are staying in London, Henry, we’ll wait here for you and that’s the end of the matter. I won’t leave you.”

  Lady Dudley is too shocked by the news to speak but I wonder if she’s thinking what I’m thinking. If Wyatt is successful and Elizabeth is given the crown, the Dudley boys will most likely be spared. But it will probably be the end of Henry Sidney’s career if he fights for Queen Mary. It’s difficult to predict which side will win and who to support and the stakes are high. For Henry the matter is simple; he’ll fight for the crown. He kisses Mary farewell and goes back to Whitehall Palace.

  The Queen doesn’t run away and by Candlemas, 2nd February, there’s news that she’s ridden out to meet her people, just as her father would have done, and has given such a rousing speech outside the Guildhall that everyone present began cheering and vouching their support. Mary has shown no fear and has instead chatted pleasantly and graciously to Londoners along the route passing by Fleet Street and through Ludgate.

  Oh yes, Mary knows how to handle the crowds and has given them all the assurances they needed regarding the Spanish marriage. She will not marry Prince Philip, she says, without the full support of parliament and the Privy Council. By the time she’s finished the crowd is cheering not only for the Queen but for Prince Philip too! The livery companies raise the men she needs and the city of London is armed and waiting.

  From the highest points of the city Wyatt’s army can be seen across the Thames in Southwark. Two large guns are trained on us from the southern end of London Bridge which has its drawbridge lifted. Wyatt begins the bombardment of the bridge in the hope that the drawbridge will be lowered to let him in. We can now only sit and wait to see what will happen next.

  On the 6th February, Shrove Tuesday, there are none of the usual celebrations before Lent begins. All London is quiet and the siege has stopped but, as we begin to hope for an end to the rebellion, there are rumours that Wyatt is looking for another place to cross the river.

  In the early hours of the morning of Ash Wednesday we’re awakened by a tremendous commotion. Wyatt and his men are in the city having crossed the river at Kingston during the night. The mood now is one of panic with people running down the streets screaming, “Get up and defend your city or you will all be murdered in your beds! Take up arms and assemble at Charing Cross.” A soldier outside our home tells us that Wyatt’s forces are gathered at Hyde Park and that the Queen is still at the Palace of Whitehall as far as he knows.

  Mary’s horrified. “Wyatt has a huge force of men. Everyone at Westminster will be slaughtered,” she says. We’ve had no news of Henry since he came to ask us to flee to Kent. By daybreak there’s a tumultuous uproar and the shouting of panic stricken voices everywhere. We retreat inside the house and bar the doors.

  Throughout the morning there’s the sound of fighting. We hear that a group of rebels has tried to enter the royal palace of Whitehall and that they moved on to Charing Cross when they found the gates were barred against them.

  In the afternoon, apart from the occasional cannon shot, all is quiet. What in heaven’s name is happening? We wait all afternoon before one of Henry’s servants volunteers to go outside and find out what he can. When he returns we don’t know whether to be fearful or rejoice. Wyatt has been arrested and the rebels are being rounded up and taken to the Tower. Considering the size of the rebellion there have been few deaths and the Queen is safe.

  “Queen Mary will not be so forgiving this time. There will be many executions,” says Mary Sidney, grimly.

  The following day London has almost returned to normal apart from the fact that there are soldiers going from door to door, seeking the Whitecoat deserters who went over to Wyatt’s side. On Friday a white faced Henry Sidney returns from court with appalling news.

  “It was a close run thing,” he says, “The guards outside the palace left closing the gates to the last minute and Wyatt’s men were almost upon us. They could still have overtaken us but they were disorganised and divided. In the end they were defeated just up the road at Charing Cross. We were fortunate and I’ve never seen the Queen so angry.”

  Henry gulps hard and looks round to see if Mary’s mother has come into the chamber. “Mary, I have some very bad news for you and I beg you not to tell your mother until we’ve had time to prepare her.”

  Mary looks at him aghast. We have no idea what he will say next but Amy and I exchange fearful glances.

  “This rebellion will have all kinds of unforeseen effects,” says Henry, staring at the ground. He cannot look Mary in the eye. “Bishop Gardiner has long been advising the Queen that she is too soft hearted with rebels and too eager to forgive,” he continues. And we suddenly realise where this is leading.

  “Gardiner’s insisting that Jane and Guildford are the focus of dissent for those who scorn Catholicism and oppose the Spanish marriage. He’s insisting on their immediate execution.”

  “But they had nothing to do with Wyatt,” says Amy indignantly.

  Mary Sidney is more resigned. She’s expected this for some time.

  “When?” she says quietly.

  Chapter Eleven

  Savage Executions

  Three days later, the following Monday, 12th February, an eighteen year old youth, little more than a tall, slender boy, walks out of the Tower and climbs Tower Hill to face the gathered crowds. He is dignified and brave and the crowd is silent, shocked to see someone so young condemned to die. Mary has commuted his sentence to death by the axe; there will be no horrific quarterings.

  Guildford stands tall on the scaffold and
forgives the executioner. He has refused the services of a priest, denying Mary the moral victory she gained when his father was executed. The young man must be terrified but he does not show his fear; his tall figure, elegantly dressed in black velvet, is calm and proud as he removes his doublet and kneels before the block to make his last prayer. He is pathetic in his loneliness. A woman in the crowd sobs, the axe falls and the bloody body is dragged away to be brought back to the Tower in a cart, the head wrapped in a blood stained white cloth. The body is thrown unceremoniously into the vault of the chapel where his father had once prayed for his life.

  Jane sees the returning cart and prepares to meet her own end on the green inside the Tower, away from the prying eyes and the sensation seekers of the crowd outside. She wears the same clothes as the ones she wore for her trial and carries the same prayer book. Jane is accompanied by the kindly and sympathetic priest with whom she’s had many lively discussions over the previous days, refusing to budge in her convictions and eliciting a fatherly admiration in the sorrowful man.

  The assembled crowd of nobles, ambassadors and churchmen listen in silence as Jane addresses them bravely. She intends to die a martyr. Her lady in waiting helps her to remove her bodice and then Jane falters, asking the axe man whether he will administer the blow before she is ready. He replies that he will not and, reassured, she fastens the blindfold and drops to her knees on the straw.

  The lonely tiny figure then crawls over the straw to the horror of the onlookers, as she searches desperately for the block. Disorientated and not finding it where she imagined it to be, she calls for help. The surrounding courtiers are shocked to the core at this pathetic sight and a woman steps forward to guide Jane. Women weep as the girl who might once have been Queen says her last prayer and the axe falls. The Spanish ambassador later says that he would not have believed how one so small could produce so much blood. Her body joins that of her husband in the crypt under the Tower chapel, finally reunited in death.