The sinister rumours current during the last few years were still afloat; justified, as it seemed, by the course of recent events. It was said that the Duke had incited Somerset to put his brother to death, and had then slain Somerset, in order that, bereft of his nearest of kin, the young King might the more easily become his victim. The reports of foul play were repeated, and it was said that Edward had been removed by poison to make way for Northumberland’s daughter-in-law. That he had not come by his death by fair means was indeed so generally believed that the Emperor, writing to Mary when she had defeated her enemies, counselled her to punish all those that had been concerned in it.[165]
The charge of poisoning was not so uncommon as to make it strange that it should be thought to have been instrumental in removing an obstacle from the path of an ambitious man. In Lady Jane’s pitiful letter to her cousin she stated—doubtless in good faith—that poison had twice been administered to her, once in the house of the Duchess of Northumberland—when the motive would have been hard to find—and again in the Tower, “as I have certain evidence.” What the poor child honestly believed had been attempted in her case, the angry people imagined had been successfully accomplished in the case of their young King, and his death was another item laid to the charge of the man they hated.
The news of what was going forward in England had by this time become known abroad. Though letters had been addressed by the Council to Sir Philip Hoby and Sir Richard Morysine, ambassadors at Brussels, announcing the King’s death and his cousin’s accession, the tidings had reached them unofficially before the arrival of the despatches from London. As the envoys were walking in the garden, they were joined by a servant of the Emperor’s, Don Diego by name, who, making profession of personal good will towards their country, expressed his regret at its present loss, adding at the same time his congratulations that so noble a King—meaning, it would seem, Guilford Dudley—had been provided for them, a King he would himself be at all times ready to serve.
The envoys replied that the sorrowful news had reached them, but not the joyous—that they were glad to hear so much from him. Don Diego thereupon proceeded to impart the further fact of Edward’s will in favour of Lady Jane. With the question whether the two daughters of Henry VIII. were bastards or not, strangers, he observed, had nothing to do. It was reasonable to accept as King him who had been declared such by the nobles of the land; and Diego, for his part, was bound to rejoice that His Majesty had been set in this office, since he was his godfather, and—so long as the Emperor was in amity with him—would be willing to shed his blood in his service.[166]
This last personal detail probably contained the explanation of Don Diego’s approbation of an arrangement which could scarcely be expected to commend itself to his master, and likewise of the curiously subordinate part awarded to Lady Jane in his account of it. But whatever might be the opinion of foreigners, it had quickly been made plain in England that the country would not be content to accept either the sovereignty of Jane or of her husband without a struggle.
Of the temper of the capital a letter or libel scattered abroad, after the fashion of the day, during the week, is an example. In this document, addressed by a certain “poor Pratte” to a young man who had been placed in the pillory and had lost his ears in consequence of his advocacy of Mary’s rights, love for the lawful Queen, and hatred of the “ragged bear,” Northumberland, is expressed in every line. Should England prove disloyal, misfortune will overtake it as a chastisement for its sin; the Gospel will be plucked away and the Lady Mary replaced by so cruel a Pharaoh as the ragged bear. Her Grace—in marked contrast to the sentiments commonly attributed to the Duke—is doubtless more sorrowful for her brother than glad to be Queen, and would have been as glad of his life as the ragged bear of his death. In conclusion, the writer trusts that God will shortly exalt Mary, “and pluck down that Jane—I cannot nominate her Queen, for that I know no other Queen but the good Lady Mary, her Grace, whom God prosper.” To those who would Mary to be Queen poor Pratte wishes long life and pleasure; to her opponents, the pains of Satan in hell.[167]
Such was the delirious spirit of loyalty towards the dispossessed heir, even amongst those who owed no allegiance to Rome. It was not long before the Council were to be taught by more forcible means than scurrilous abuse to correct their estimate of the situation and of the forces at work, strangely misapprehended at the first by one and all.
News was reaching London of the support tendered to Mary. The Earls of Sussex and of Bath had declared in her favour; the county of Suffolk had led the way in rising on her behalf; nobles and gentlemen, with their retainers, were flocking to her standard; it was becoming clearer with every hour that she would not consent to be ousted from her rights without a fierce struggle.
Measures for meeting the resistance of her adherents had to be taken without delay; and Northumberland, wisely unwilling to absent himself from the capital at a juncture so critical, had intended to depute Suffolk to command the forces to be led against her; to gain, if possible, possession of her person, and to bring her to London. This was the arrangement hastily made on July 12. Before nightfall it had been cancelled at the entreaty of the titular Queen.
It is not difficult to enter into the Lady Jane’s feelings, threatened with the absence of her father on a dangerous errand. With her nervous fears of poison, her evident dislike of her mother-in-law, and ill at ease in new circumstances and surroundings, she may well have clung to the comfort and support afforded by his presence; nor is it incomprehensible that she had “taken the matter heavily” when informed of the decision of the Council. Her wishes might have had little effect if other causes had not conspired to assist her to gain her object, and it has been suggested that those of the lords already contemplating the possibility of Mary’s success, and desirous of being freed from the restraint imposed by Northumberland’s presence amongst them, may have had a hand in instigating her request, proffered with tears, that her father might tarry at home in her company. The entreaty was, at all events, in full accordance with their desires, and pressure was brought upon Northumberland to induce him to yield to her petition—leaving Suffolk in his place at the Tower, and himself leading the troops north.