Poor solitary little girl! We of this matter-of-fact age can but feel more of pity than admiration, as down the long vista of four and a half centuries we picture her sitting alone, poring over the Phædon—dull reading, one would imagine, for a child, even to one so harried by the ill-temper of her weak father and her sharp-tongued mother, “whether she stood still or moved about, was merry or sad, sewed or played,” that she felt herself “in Hell” until Mr. Aylmer called her to her studies!
Ascham’s story throws a very unpleasing sidelight on the conduct of Lady Jane Grey’s parents and their harsh treatment of the child, and proves, moreover, the sort of forcing system to which she was being subjected. Ascham tells us that he mentions this interesting interview, which he introduces into his Schoolmaster, because it was the last time he ever saw “that sweet and illustrious lady,” and also as a protest against the exceeding severity of the teaching of those times. It is curious to note, as her historian, Howard, observes, that whilst her parents were handling her like a froward child, this extraordinary young lady was in active correspondence with such famous men as Ascham, Conrad Pellican, Bullinger, and Sturmius, who all treated her with the respect due to a grown-up woman of uncommon sagacity and experience. The only explanation of this fact is the supposition that these worthies, foreseeing Lady Jane might possibly occupy the throne, and anxious to promote the cause of the Reformation in every possible way, may have placed her on a higher pedestal than her immature talents deserved. They certainly flattered her father, of whom they spoke and wrote as being well-nigh apostolic in zeal and sanctity, and a marvel of light and learning to boot.
At the age of fourteen, then, Lady Jane was fairly conversant with Latin and Greek,[152] and with or without the aid of a dictionary managed to derive some entertainment from Plato. But when we are told that she had mastered Hebrew, and at the age of seventeen was forming the acquaintance of “the tongue of Chaldea” and “the language of Arabia,” we are inclined, with Sir Harris Nicolas, to be sceptical. Her Greek and Latin may have been, and very likely were, thoroughly mastered. Several letters in these languages are attributed to her and are possibly of her own unaided composition, but even in these we note that her style and phraseology in many cases closely resembles that of Demosthenes or Cicero, whom she evidently imitated. In one of her letters, written on 12th July 1551, to Henry Bullinger, she says, “I am beginning to learn the Hebrew tongue,” and asks him to give her a method whereby she may pursue her course of study in that language to the greatest advantage. Bullinger sent the plan, and in another letter she thanks him and says she will enter upon the study of the Hebrew language in the method which he so clearly directs. As this letter is dated July 1552, and her brief career ended in the following year, her proficiency in the language of the prophets was probably not very considerable.
That poor Jane Grey was “crammed” there can be no question, and the wonder is her weak health did not collapse altogether under the strain. The figurehead of a party she was to be, however, and it was necessary that extravagant reports of her learning should be spread throughout her own country and among the Protestants in foreign lands.
Lady Jane Grey at this period, surrounded by learned men and women so much older than herself, appears strained, even artificial, but later, in her culminating misery, she displays a dignity, a sweetness of nature, and a pious sincerity which render her worthy of her fame. Her few compositions which have come down to us, most of them written during the last days of her life,—her prayer, for instance, the letter to her sisters, and the lines which, according to tradition, she scratched on the walls of her cell,—are full of feeling, and lead us to regret that so fine a nature should not have been spared to adorn mature womanhood as perfectly as its unaffected simplicity graced her short maidenhood. Yet there was a strain of obstinacy and even of coarseness in Jane’s character which leads one to think that after all she might, had she remained Queen, have displayed in later life many of the less pleasing peculiarities of her Tudor ancestors.
A very curious letter, written to Lady Jane Grey by Ascham early in 1552, while he was still at the Court of Charles V, throws considerable light on the subject of her studies; it has also led some authorities to imagine the learned man had actually fallen in love with his fair pupil. “In this my long peregrination, most illustrious lady,” says he, “I have travelled far, have visited the greatest cities, and have made the most diligent observations in my power on the manners of the nations, their institutions, laws, and regulations. Nevertheless, there is nothing that has raised in me greater admiration than what I found in regard to yourself during the last summer, to see one so young and lovely, even in the absence of her learned preceptor, in the noble hall of her family, in the very moment when her friends and relatives were enjoying the field sports, to find, I repeat—oh, all ye gods!—so divine a maid, diligently perusing the Phædon of Plato, in this more happy, it may be believed, than in her royal and noble lineage.
“Go on thus, O best adorned virgin, to the honour of thy country, the delight of thy parents, the comfort of thy relatives, and the admiration of all. Oh, happy Aylmer! to have such a scholar, and to be her tutor. I congratulate both you who teach and she who learns. These were the words to myself, as to my reward for teaching the most illustrious Elizabeth. But to you too I can repeat them with more truth, to you I concede this felicity, even though I should have to lament want of success where I had expected to reap the sweetest fruits of my labours.
“But let me constrain the sharpness of my grief which prudence makes it necessary I should conceal even to myself. This much I say, that I have no fault to find with the Lady Elizabeth, whom I have always found the best of ladies, nor indeed with the Lady Mary, but if ever I shall have the happiness to meet my friend Aylmer, then I shall repose in his bosom my sorrows abundantly.
“Two things I repeat to thee, my friend Aylmer [Aylmer was evidently at Bradgate at this period], for I know thou wilt see this letter, that by your persuasion and entreaty the Lady Jane Grey, as early as she can conveniently, may write to me in Greek, which she had already promised to do. I have even written lately to John Sturmius, mentioning this promise. Pray let your letters and hers fly together to us. The distance is great, but John Hales will take care that it shall reach me. If she even were to write to Sturmius himself in Greek, neither you nor she would have cause to repent your labour. [The “neither you nor she” points clearly to collaboration.]
“The other request is, my good Aylmer, that you would exert yourself so that we might conjointly preserve this mode of life among us. How freely, how sweetly, and philosophically then should we live! Why should we, my good Aylmer, less enjoy all these things, which Cicero, at the conclusion of the third book, De Finibus, describes as the only rational mode of life? Nothing in any tongue, nothing in any times, in human memory, either past or present, from which something may not be drawn to sweeten life!