Even Foxe, Mary’s bitterest enemy, admitted that “God so turned the hearts of the people to her, and against the Council, that she overcame them without bloodshed, notwithstanding there was made great expedition against her both by sea and land”.[304]
Jane, having left her apartments in ignorance of what was happening, to stand sponsor at the baptism of the child of Edward Underhill in St. John’s Chapel, found on her return that the cloth of estate, and other insignia of royalty had disappeared from her presence chamber, by order of the Duke of Suffolk himself. The Crown had passed for ever from her, and there was no alternative but a hasty retreat into that private life, from which it would have been well for her had she never been drawn.
So much extravagant language has been employed by the partisans of the Lady Jane Grey, in describing her virtues and accomplishments, while her youth and tragic end make her so interesting a figure, that it is scarcely wonderful if we find it difficult to form a sober opinion of one, who appeared for a moment in our annals, and as the price of that appearance, laid her fair young head upon the block. The charm that failed to draw even a murmur of applause from her contemporaries, when she was thrust upon them as Queen has been potent ever since, and there are few who do not unconsciously canonise her on account of her misfortunes.
She had been educated severely, in the same kind of intellectual school as that, in which the daughters of Henry VIII. and the learned family of Sir Thomas More had also distinguished themselves. She was a good Latin and Greek scholar, and was further well versed in the doctrines of the Genevan Reformers. The instrument of Northumberland’s ambitious schemes, she had passively acquiesced in the dignity conspired for her, but once raised to the throne, the timid girl of sixteen had suddenly displayed the obstinacy which she had inherited from her Tudor grandmother, and had evinced spirit and determination enough to refuse to share her supposed title with her husband.[305] Had the bold stroke succeeded, which placed the Crown for a moment in her hands, her father-in-law might have lived to repent his temerity.
It would be obviously unfair to hold Jane responsible for all that was done in her name, but although Mary’s temper showed itself the reverse of vindictive, it must have cost the Queen an effort, to forgive the nine days’ usurper the letter which purported to have been written by her to the Marquis of Northampton, announcing her accession, and requiring his allegiance and defence of her title, against “the feigned and untrue claim of the Lady Mary, bastard daughter to our great-uncle, Henry the Eighth of famous memory”. The draft of this letter, in Northumberland’s hand, and endorsed by Cecil “First copy of a letter to be written by the Lady Jane when she came from the Tower,” is in the British Museum, as is also the copy made by a clerk and signed by Jane. This second copy was afterwards endorsed by the Duke “Jana non Regina”.[306] On the news reaching the Duke of Northumberland that the Council had submitted to Mary, and that immediately the troops had testified their satisfaction in a volley of artillery, he saw that further resistance would be suicidal. He threw up his cap and shouted, “Long live Queen Mary! so laughing that the tears ran down his face with grief”.[307] In less than an hour, he was summoned to disband his army, and commanded not to approach London within ten miles. He remained at Cambridge, and when that place, following the example of Great Yarmouth, Colchester and Bury declared for Mary, he was arrested by the municipality, but released on the Queen’s proclamation, ordering every man to go to his own home, till further orders. Scarcely however did he breathe freely, when the Earl of Arundel arrived to apprehend him on a charge of high treason. Over and above the guilt which he shared with the whole Council, he had borne arms against his lawful sovereign, and was suspected of having offered Calais to the French as the price of their support. At once guessing why Arundel had come, he fell on his knees, and with a craven spirit begged him to be good to him for the love of God. “And consider,” he added, “I have done nothing but by the consent of you all, and all the whole Council.” He went to the Tower, guarded by 4,000 soldiers, and was lodged in the Beauchamp Tower, whence he wrote abjectly to Arundel: “Oh that it would please her good Grace to give me life, yea the life of a dog, if I might live and kiss her feet; and spend both life and all in her humble service, as I have the best part already, under her worthy brother and most glorious father”.
Northumberland was, justly enough, the scapegoat; but as he had said, no member of the Council came out of the matter with clean hands. All had signed the will which the Duke had dictated to Edward, enfeebled by his mortal disease, and dexterously worked up to a pitch of fanaticism that made him oblivious of justice. But Cecil’s proceedings were, by his own showing, perhaps the most despicable. In his written submission[308] to Queen Mary, after beseeching her clemency, he went on to confess that his conduct throughout the plot had been guided by the one consideration of saving his skin whole. He had shuffled as long as he dared brave the Duke’s irritation, and had given in only, when the odds in favour of the conspirators seemed overwhelming. But when Northumberland had charged him to proclaim the Lady Jane, he had shifted the responsibility of the act on to Throckmorton, “whose conscience I saw was troubled therewith, misliking the matter”. The document ends with the pious invocation:—
“Justus adjutorium meus Dominus qui salvos facit rectos corde. God save the Queen in all felicity.
“W. Cecill.”
Sir William Petre had also tried to make compromises with the Duke, but had succumbed, on being told that unless he agreed to the whole plan he could no longer retain his office of Secretary of State. Each day brought Mary fresh conquests. After a nine days’ rebellion, without a single blow having been struck in her defence, she was proclaimed Queen in every town in England. Her journey to London was a triumphal progress. Antoine de Noailles, the French ambassador, who had so lately conspired with Edward’s Council, and who was to be the evil genius of the new reign, rode twenty-five miles into the country to meet and congratulate the Queen in his master’s name, offering her the whole of the French forces, in support of her right. At Wanstead, she was joined by the Lady Elizabeth, who had prudently abstained from taking sides, till it should be clear where success lay. She had declined Northumberland’s overtures, and offers of large sums of money, but had equally avoided moving a finger in Mary’s cause, pleading an illness, which however allowed her to recover opportunely, when the Queen was about to take possession of her capital. Mary greeted her affectionately, embraced all her ladies, and assigned her the next place in the royal cortège after herself.[309] Together they entered the City of London at Aldgate, on the 3rd August, and rode through the densely crowded streets, the multitude rending the air with shouts of joy. Elizabeth was too clever not to estimate at its real value the contrast presented by the two sisters on this striking occasion. In spite of their loyalty and enthusiasm in realising the reward of their long devotion, the people could not fail to observe, that the Queen at thirty-seven, worn with trouble and sickness, was eclipsed by Elizabeth’s twenty years.