“And before the setting forward of these men, the Duke sent a herald into Rochester, with the Queen’s proclamation, that all such as would desist their purpose should have frank and free pardon; who came upon the bridge, and would have gone through into the city, but they that kept the bridge would not suffer him, till that the captain came, who at last granted the same to be read in the city. But the same being ended, each man cried they had done nothing whereof they should need any pardon, and that quarrel which they took, they would die and live in it. Nevertheless, at the last, Sir George Harper received the pardon outwardly, and being received under the Duke of Norfolk’s protection, came on forward against the Kentish men; and even as the company was set in a readiness, and marched forward toward the bridge, the said Bret being captain of the five hundred Londoners, of which the more part were in the forward, turned himself about, and drawing his sword said by report these or much like words. ‘Masters, we go about to fight against our native countrymen of England and our friends, in a quarrel unrightful and partly wicked, for they, considering the great and manifold miseries which are like to fall upon us if we shall be under the rule of the proud Spaniards or strangers, are here assembled to make resistance against the coming in of him or his favourers.’”
Then followed the usual highly coloured description of the state of slavery to which England was to be reduced by the Queen’s marriage, a picture that had been so often held up before the people by de Noailles, that it was no wonder if they had come to believe in the reality of the horrors portrayed. “‘Wherefore,’ continued Brett, ‘I and these (meaning by them such as were in that rank with him) will spend our blood in the quarrel of this worthy captain, master Wyatt, and other gentlemen here assembled.’ Which words once pronounced, each man turned their ordnance against their fellow. The Londoners thereupon cried ‘a Wyatt! a Wyatt!’ of which sudden noise, the duke, the earl of Ormond and the captain of the guard, being abashed, fled forthwith. Immediately came in master Wyatt and his company, on horseback, rushing in amongst them, saying as well to the guard, Londoners, as to all the rest. ‘So many as will come and tarry with us shall be welcome; and so many as will depart, good leave have they.’ And so all the Londoners, part of the guard, and more than three parts of the retinue went into the camp of the Kentishmen, where they still remain. At this discomfiture, the Duke lost eight pieces of brass, with all other munition and ordnance, and himself with the earl of Ormond, and Jerningham and others fled to London. Ye should have seen some of the guard come home, their coats turned, all ruined, without arrows or string in their bow, or sword, in a very strange wise; which discomfiture, like as it was a heartsore, and very displeasing to the Queen and Council, even so it was almost no less joyous to the Londoners, and most part of all others.”[399]
Wyatt then marched to a house belonging to Lord Cobham near Rochester, made himself master of it, and obliged the owner with his two sons to join his band. His next movement was towards London. The Queen ordered the bridges over the Thames to be destroyed, to the distance of fifteen miles. The numbers of the insurgents increased daily, lashed into a fury of fear by inflammatory words, such as the following incident relates:—
William Cotman, afterwards committed, declared that “William Ishley Gent. eldest son Sir William Ishley, Knt., came this morning to his shop, two hours before day, to shoe his horse, where he tarried the making of a shoe, and there used these words: ‘that the Spaniards were coming into the realm, with harness and hand-guns, and would make us Englishmen worse than enemies and viler; for this realm should be brought to such bondage by them, as it was never afore, but should be utterly conquered!’ And at his taking of his horse, he said with a loud voice, that all the street might hear it, it being scarce day: ‘Smith, if thou beest a good fellow, stir and encourage all the neighbours to rise against these strangers, for they should have lawful warning and help enough!...’ ‘Why,’ quoth the smith, ‘these be marvellous words, for we shall be hanged if we stir.’ ‘No,’ quoth Ishley, ‘ye shall have help enough, for the people are already up in Devonshire and Cornwall, Hampshire and other counties.’”[400]
The Council, the Court, the loyal citizens of London were panic-stricken, armed men patrolled the London streets; friends and foes were scarcely to be distinguished in the surging, vociferous crowds that thronged the open spaces day and night. Confusion and terror reigned. The government sued Wyatt for terms, thereby only increasing his audacity. He replied by undertaking to lay down his arms, provided that the Queen placed the Tower of London, and four of her principal advisers in his hands, as guarantees of her promise to marry an Englishman. Mutual distrust gave rise to futile recriminations at the Council Board. Gardiner was reproached on the one hand for his precipitancy in restoring the ancient religion; the Spanish ambassadors, on the other, were blamed for advising the Queen’s marriage with Philip, to which the Chancellor had always been opposed. The ambassadors fled in dismay, disguised as merchants—all but Renard, who refused to desert the Queen.
Mary was at Whitehall and Westminster Palace, during the whole time of the horrible panic, the only calm and self-possessed figure, amid the confusion and dire distress of her friends. She could easily pass from one palace to the other by means of the inside galleries which connected the Holbein Gate at Whitehall, with the Old Palace at Westminster, on the site of the present Houses of Parliament. When her ministers urged her to seek safety in flight, she as usual consulted Renard, who advised her to remain, if she would not lose her crown.[401] A meeting of the citizens to discuss measures for the defence of London, was convened at the Guildhall, on the 1st February. Mary’s coming to the city and her address to the people are thus described by Wriothesley:—
“The same day in the afternoon, being Candlemas Even, all the Commons of the City were assembled in their liveries at the Guildhall. The Queen’s Majesty, with her lords and ladies, riding from Westminster to the said Guildhall, came thither by 3 of the clock the same afternoon. First she went up to the Council Chamber, where the aldermen use to sit, and there paused a little, the Lord Mayor and aldermen receiving her Majesty at the steps going up to the Lord Mayor’s Court. Then her Majesty came down into the great hall, up into the place of the hustings, where was hanged a rich cloth of estate, she standing under it, with her own mouth declared to the audience there assembled, the wicked pretence of the traitor Wyatt, which was utterly to deprive her of her crown and to spoil the City; which was so nobly and with so good spirit declared, and with so loud a voice, that all the people might hear her Majesty, and comforting their hearts with so sweet words, that made them weep for joy to hear her Majesty speak. This done, she came down, and went up again into the Council Chamber, and drank, and then departed, and rode through Bucklersbury to the Crane in the Vinetree, and there took her barge, and so to Westminster by water.”[402]
Foxe gives the Queen’s speech at the Guildhall “as near out of her own mouth as it could be penned”. She said: “I am come unto you in mine own person to tell you that which already you see and know; that is, how traitorously and rebelliously a number of Kentishmen have assembled themselves against us and you. Their pretence (as they said at the first) was for a marriage determined for us, to the which, and to all the articles thereof, ye have been made privy. But since, we have caused certain of our privy council to go again unto them, and to demand the cause of this their rebellion; and it appeared then unto our said council, that the matter of the marriage seemed to be but a Spanish cloak to cover their pretended purpose against our religion; for that they arrogantly and traitorously demanded to have the governance of our person, the keeping of the Tower, and the placing of our councillors. Now, loving subjects, what I am ye right well know. I am your queen, to whom at my coronation, when I was wedded to the realm and laws of the same (the spousal ring whereof I have on my finger, which never hitherto was, nor hereafter shall be left off) you promised your allegiance and obedience unto me. And that I am the right and true inheritor of the crown of this realm of England, I take all Christendom to witness. My father, as ye all know, possessed the same regal state, which now rightly is descended unto me: and to him always ye showed yourselves most faithful and loving subjects; and therefore I doubt not, but ye will show yourselves [such] likewise unto me, and that ye will not suffer a vile traitor to have the order and governance of our person, and to occupy our estate, especially being so vile a traitor as Wyat is, who most certainly as he hath abused mine ignorant subjects which be on his side, so doth he intend and purpose the destruction of you, and spoil of your goods. And I say to you on the word of a prince, I cannot tell how naturally the mother loveth the child, for I was never the mother of any, but certainly if a prince and governor may as naturally and earnestly love her subjects, as the mother doth love the child, then assure yourselves that I, being your lady and mistress, do as earnestly and tenderly love and favour you. And I, thus loving you, cannot but think that ye as heartily and faithfully love me; and then I doubt not but that we shall give these rebels a short and speedy overthrow. As concerning the marriage, ye shall understand that I enterprised not the doing thereof without advice, and that by the advice of all our privy council, who so considered and weighed the great commodities that might ensue thereof, that they not only thought it very honourable, but also expedient, both for the wealth of the realm, and also of you our subjects. And as touching myself, I assure you, I am not so bent to my will, neither so precise nor affectionate, that either for mine own pleasure I would choose where I lust, or that I am so desirous, as needs I would have one. For God, I thank him, to whom be the praise therefore, I have hitherto lived a virgin, and doubt nothing, but with God’s grace, I am able so to live still. But if, as my progenitors have done before me, it may please God, that I might leave some fruit of my body behind me, to be your governor, I trust you would not only rejoice thereat, but also I know it would be to your great comfort. And certainly, if I either did think or know, that this marriage were to the hurt of any of you my commons, or to the impeachment of any part or parcel of the royal state of this realm of England, I would never consent thereunto, neither would I ever marry while I lived. And on the word of a queen, I promise you, that if it shall not probably appear to all the nobility and commons, in the high court of parliament, that this marriage shall be for the high benefit and commodity of the whole realm, then will I abstain from marriage while I live. And now good subjects, pluck up your hearts, and like true men, stand fast against these rebels, both our enemies and yours, and fear them not, for I assure you I fear them nothing at all. And I will leave with you, my lord Howard, and my lord treasurer, who shall be assistants with the mayor for your defence.”[403]
As Mary finished this oration, “which she seemed perfectly to have conned without book,” the hall resounded with cheers and acclamations. “God save Queen Mary!” shouted the citizens, and some even added, “and the Prince of Spain”. The Chancellor, who was standing by, exclaimed: “Oh, how happy are we, to whom God hath given such a wise and learned prince!” Enthusiasm took the place of depression, and 20,000 men at once enrolled themselves for the defence. The Queen’s noble confidence in the strength and righteousness of her cause communicated itself to the people, and the approach of the rebels was henceforth met with steady preparations for a determined resistance. On the last day of January, Wyatt was at Dartford. While Mary was rousing the citizens to fervour at the Guildhall, he was passing through Greenwich and Deptford, but his company was suffering hourly from desertions, and that same night Lord Cobham gave himself up, and was taken to the Tower as a prisoner.
“On Saturday in the morning, being the 3rd of February, there came forth a proclamation, set forth by the Queen’s Council, wherein was declared that that traitor Wyatt educed simple people against the Queen. Wherefore, she willed all her loving subjects to endeavour themselves to withstand him; and that the Duke of Suffolk with his two brethren were discomfited by the Earl of Huntingdon, and certain of his horsemen taken, and the Duke and his two brethren fled in servingman’s coats; and that Sir Peter Carew was fled into France; and that Sir Gawen Carew, Gibbs and others were taken and remain in Exeter; and that the whole city of Exeter and commons thereabout, were at the Queen’s commandment, with their power to the death. And that she did pardon the whole camp except Wyatt, Harper, Rudston and Iseley; and that whoever could take Wyat, except the said four persons, should have an hundred pounds a year, to them and to their heirs for ever.”[404]