Mary was no politician. The diplomacy under which she had suffered had not taught her to meet treachery with dissimulation and fraud with cunning. She could arm herself at all points for defence, but she was not a good dissembler. “To be plain with you,” was an expression natural to her, and all her words and actions were plain, clean-cut and unmistakable. Her letters are a distinct contrast to Elizabeth’s monuments of mystification, framed to confuse, if not altogether to mislead. Perhaps Mary’s greatest misfortune was that she was born fifty years too late. Her virtues and her faults were those of a past, or rapidly passing, age. She belonged by every fibre of her nature to the old order, while the world about her was holding out eager arms to the Renaissance, to the new life that was so well worth living, the new learning that added a fresh impetus to intellectual pursuits, to the new religion that was to lead men away from the purgative into the illuminative way, abolishing good works as snares of the Evil One. The world was advancing; Mary with a few kindred spirits was reactionary, and if for a while, her popularity was as great, the nation’s love for her as enthusiastic as ever, it was because people were still more than half unconscious of the new forces at work among them. England was not yet Protestantised. The legislation of five or six years had not overcome the habits of thought formed by nine centuries, and although a new generation had sprung up since the rupture with Rome, believing that Pope spelt arch-enemy, the greater number of Englishmen were in all other respects Catholics by choice. But as strong as their particular fear of Rome was their general distrust of all foreigners, and especially of Spaniards; and the French ambassador took care to keep that distrust alive, and to increase it by every means in his power.
Edward lay dying, but no sign was allowed to transpire of the revolution that was intended. The Council Registers are a blank, save for significant entries concerning the removal of artillery from the ships and forts to the Tower. But these ominous if silent preparations did not escape the notice of the imperial envoys, who kept close watch, to prevent a surprise.
The young King breathed his last on the evening of the 6th July, but it had been arranged that the event should be kept secret, till all was in readiness for the great stroke. The guards were doubled in the palace, and every care was taken that the outer world should still ask anxiously for news from the sick chamber. Nevertheless, that same night, Mary was informed of her brother’s death. She had ridden from Hunsdon, where she was then residing, towards London, and was expected by the conspirators at court, whence she would have been at once transferred in safe custody to the Tower.
At Hoddesden, however, she was met by a secret messenger, bringing the fateful news. Putting spurs to her horse, she rode into the eastern counties, with the intention of gaining Kenninghall, a house in Norfolk left to her by Henry VIII., the gift being confirmed by a grant of the second year of Edward VI. On the way, she stopped to rest at the house of Mr. Huddleston of Sawston, and in consequence of her prompt action, while she was under this hospitable roof, the bubble blown by Northumberland burst sooner than had been intended. On leaving Sawston, Mary looked back from the summit of a neighbouring hill, and saw smoke rising from the house that had sheltered her. The rebels had set fire to it, thinking that she was still there. It was burned to the ground, but after the rebellion, the Queen granted to Mr. Huddleston the materials from the ruins of Cambridge Castle, with which to rebuild his home.[287] Hengrave Hall was the next halting-place, whence John Bourchier, Earl of Bath, accompanied her with a considerable force to Kenninghall. [288] From thence, she sent proclamations into all parts of the country, announcing her accession, and calling her loyal subjects to her aid. Among the muniments of Condover Hall, Shropshire, is a letter from Mary dated six days after Edward’s death, and addressed to the Mayor of Chester, summoning the inhabitants of that part of the county to raise as great a force as possible, and repair to her at Kenninghall, or elsewhere in Norfolk, “wherefore right trusty and well-beloved, as ye be true Englishmen, fail ye not”.
With her were the Earl of Sussex, the Lord Mordaunt, Sir William Drury, Sir John Shelton, Sir Henry Bedingfeld, Sir Henry Jerningham, besides the Earl of Bath and his contingent. As her whereabouts became known, numbers flocked to her standard. In two days, she found herself at the head of 30,000 men, and while the conspirators were taking possession of the Tower, of the Crown, of the Crown jewels and the revenues, Mary without a single accessory of royalty, without arms or money, was gathering round her the flower of the nobility, and was issuing manifestoes to the whole kingdom, as calmly as if she were already undisputed mistress of the realm. When it became known that the Duke of Northumberland was advancing with an army, she removed her quarters to Framlingham, a strongly fortified house belonging to the Duke of Norfolk, who had been a prisoner in the Tower ever since 1546.[289] A report was circulated that the Council was about to execute him, together with the rest of the State prisoners, Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, deprived for religion, and Edward Courtenay, son of the Marquis of Exeter who was beheaded in the same cause in 1538.[290] On the 10th July, Jane was proclaimed Queen.
“Item the x. day of the same month, after vii. o’clock at night was made a proclamation at the Cross in Cheap by three herolds and one trumpet, with the King’s Sheriff of London, Master Garrard, with divers of the guards, for Jane, the Duke of Suffolk’s daughter to be Queen of England (but few or none said ‘God save her’) the which was brought the same afternoon from Richmond unto Westminster, and so unto the Tower of London by water.”[291] At the same time, the Lady Mary and the Lady Elizabeth were declared illegitimate, and all estates and degrees were called upon to be obedient to their lawful sovereign, Queen Jane. A vintner’s boy in the crowd ventured to protest against the usurpation, and for his temerity was nailed to the pillory by the ears, both of which were amputated before he could be set free.[292]
Earlier in the day, the demise of the Crown had been announced in London, and when the Lady Jane arrived at the Tower, she was surrounded with as much state as was possible. The Lord Treasurer presented her ceremoniously with the Crown; all knelt as she passed by; her train was carried by her mother, the Duchess of Suffolk. But the space at the disposal of the new court was extremely limited, the Tower being crowded with prisoners, as well as with the members of the new government, who were all lodged there for safety.
In spite of the lack of enthusiasm, and the silence with which Jane was received, even in Protestant London, the imperial ambassadors thought Mary’s determined attitude “strange, difficult and dangerous,” fearing that in four days she would be in the hands of the Council. Though the people hated Northumberland for his ambition, and dreaded him for his tyranny, and though they gave credit to the rumours that Edward had been poisoned,[293] even Mary’s friends were of the opinion that it would be necessary to appeal to the Emperor to place her on the throne. This, the ambassadors thought, would in no wise diminish the affection of the country for her, so entirely was she beloved by the people. [294] Their view of the desperate character of her resistance was strengthened by the information that Northumberland had sent his son Lord Henry Dudley into France, to solicit troops, and that 6000 French soldiers were expected shortly to embark at Dieppe and Boulogne.
On the 11th, a letter from Mary, addressed to the Lords of the Council was brought to the Tower. It ran as follows:—
“My Lords,