None of the agitated inhabitants of the palace could have anticipated what happened next. After a few brief skirmishes along Fleet Street and the Strand, in which the guard supposedly defending Mary behaved with almost comical cowardice, and would probably have been put to flight if Wyatt’s supporters were not already deserting, the rebellion suddenly fizzled out without warning. Finding he could not advance beyond Ludgate, which was well fortified, Wyatt was suddenly overwhelmed by despondency. He alone of the plotters had honoured his commitments and he knew, as he sat outside a tavern near Ludgate Bar and gathered his thoughts, that he could not prevail.The enormity of his offence against the Crown was stark. He seems to have believed that a pardon might be offered if he surrendered and so he gave himself up without resistance. But only the Tower and the scaffold awaited him.
The aftermath of the rebellion was not pretty. The queen’s mercy was exhausted and retribution came quickly, to the innocent as well as the guilty.The Carew brothers had already reached safety in France before Wyatt fired a shot, but the other conspirators were soon hunted down and about a hundred participants in the uprising were executed between mid-February and mid-March. Edward Courtenay found himself back in the Tower within a week of the end of the rebellion, despite having commanded some of the queen’s guard during the fighting in London. In disgrace, his mother left court, never to recover her position of influence with Mary.
33
But the first and most famous victim was Lady Jane Grey, who died on 12 February.The decision to execute her troubled the queen greatly, but Mary bowed to her councillors’ advice that her cousin would always be a focus for rebellion. The duke of Suffolk’s almost whimsical involvement sealed his daughter’s fate. Her life and that of Guildford Dudley were forfeit. It could not have been unexpected.
Jane made herself watch as her young husband’s headless body returned in a cart filled with bloodied straw from the block on Tower Green. She had not seen him during their detention, yet the sight moved her more than any intimacy between the couple in their brief marriage. When she went to meet her own death only 30 minutes later, wearing a mourning dress edged with black velvet and clutching a prayer-book, she was well prepared for the address to the people that was expected. Born of the blood royal, a Tudor like Mary, she asked the small crowd gathered to observe her end ‘to bear me witness that I die a good Christian woman, and that I looked to be saved by no other means, but only by the mercy of God in the merits of the blood of his only son Jesus Christ: and I confess when I did know the word of God I neglected the same, loved myself and the world, and therefore this plague or punishment is happily and worthily happened unto me for my sins; and yet I thank God of his goodness that he hath given me a time and respite to repent’.Then she added: ‘and now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you to assist me with your prayers’.
34
She had resisted all Mary’s attempts to get her to die in the Catholic religion, strong in her Protestant faith and convinced that, as she wrote to her father, ‘to me there is nothing that can be more welcome than from this vale of misery to aspire to that heavenly throne of all joy and pleasure with Christ my Saviour’.
35
Yet right at the end, when she was blindfolded and had just moments to live, her composure deserted her. She could not find the block.‘What shall I do? Where is it?’ she cried out, until a bystander guided her and she recovered from her terror.Then the axe fell swiftly and cleanly and this hideously manipulated, unloved slip of a girl was gone.
In the flyleaf of her prayer-book she had written to the lieutenant of the Tower, John Brydges, who showed her much kindness and thoughtful consideration while she lodged as a prisoner with him:‘Forasmuch as you have desired so simple a woman to write in so worthy a book … therefore shall I as a good friend desire you … live still to die, that by death you may purchase eternal life … for as the preacher sayeth, there is a time to be born and a time to die; and the day of death is better than the day of our birth.Yours, as the Lord knoweth, as a friend, Jane Dudley.’
36
The axe had fallen on Lady Jane and its shadow now hung over Elizabeth herself. But despite repeated questioning, some of it probably under torture, Wyatt never admitted that Elizabeth was involved in the rebellion and no solid evidence could be found against her, much to Renard’s irritation. She could not, however, be allowed to remain free while the trials of Wyatt and his accomplices were taking place and now that the imperial commissioners had returned.
37
It may also have been hoped that her servants, some of whom were not known for their discretion, would give the game away once separated from her. Elizabeth’s health was poor and she was, in her different way, as highly strung as her sister.The prospect of prolonged interrogation and imprisonment might break her spirit.
It has been suggested that, in the difficult relationship between Elizabeth and Mary, Elizabeth held all the cards and Mary was actually the victim. But while it is true that Elizabeth’s lands and men, as well as her natural rapport with the populace, gave her a great deal of power, there can be no doubt that Mary, as queen, could have destroyed her if she had ever fully hardened her heart. And Elizabeth was quite clearly terrified of sharing her mother’s fate, despite being aware that Paget and his clique on the council would do everything they could to prevent her being sacrificed.
When another, more imperious summons to court arrived as soon as Wyatt’s rebellion failed, Elizabeth was in a quandary. She did not want to leave, partly because she was genuinely unwell, but she was desperate to seek a personal interview with Mary. In order to assess whether her sister was really ill or just malingering, Mary sent her own physicians to examine Elizabeth. When three of Mary’s councillors, led by the lord admiral, William Howard, arrived to inform Elizabeth that Mary’s summons was not negotiable, they reported to the queen: ‘Your physicians told us she might without danger repair to you with all speed.We found her comfortable, save that she desired longer to recover her strength; but on the persuasion of us and her own council and servants (whom we found ready to accomplish your pleasure) she is resolved to move tomorrow—the journey is enclosed. She desires lodging further from the water than she had last at court, which your physicians think meet.’
38
This short missive reveals that Elizabeth was still very clear-headed, despite being stressed and feeling weak, and it also suggests that those around her may well have persuaded her that she could hold out no longer at Ashridge.
She left on 12 February, the day that Lady Jane was beheaded. But having been taken ill again en route, she did not arrive in London until nearly two weeks later. It was a curiously regal entry for someone whose position was at best uncertain and at worst approaching disgrace. Accompanied by two hundred scarlet-clad horsemen, the invalid sat in her litter dressed entirely in white and with the curtains open so that people could see her - and also to give the lie to rumours put about by Renard that she was pregnant.
The entry may have been impressive but the reality of Elizabeth’s position was much more desperate. She was taken to Whitehall and kept in a secure lodging. Despite impassioned pleas, Mary refused to see her. The queen evidently feared that there was still sufficient residual affection and family feeling for her judgement to be swayed at a critical time. Mary’s coldness was Elizabeth’s worst nightmare.
Isolated and sick with worry, the queen’s sister languished in Whitehall until mid-March. Then, at his trial, Wyatt, in attempting to defend her, actually made matters worse. He acknowledged that he had sent her a letter about the rebellion and she had replied verbally, via her servant, William St Loe, ‘that she did thank him much for his goodwill and she would do as she should see cause’.
39
This was just the kind of vague sentiment, notably lacking in declarations of personal loyalty to Mary herself, that the queen so detested about her sister.The situation looked bad and even Paget could not prevent the fall-out. The day after Wyatt made his remarks, the entire council came to Whitehall and charged her with involvement in the Carew and Wyatt conspiracies. Though she denied the charges absolutely, the next move was predictable and much dreaded by the 20—year—old Elizabeth. Like Lady Jane, and her own mother before her, she would be made a prisoner in the Tower. And there were clearly those, including perhaps her own sister, who would try to ensure that she met the same fate.
On Saturday, 17 March 1554, the marquess of Winchester and the earl of Sussex, two of Mary’s most faithful supporters, came to escort the daughter of Anne Boleyn to the Tower by water. Deprived of her servants and under armed guard, Elizabeth tried desperately to delay, convinced that if she were allowed to see the queen in person, she could plead her case much more effectively. She begged, and was granted, time to write a letter. Winchester had been inclined not to humour her, but Sussex prevailed on him to relent. She was, the old earl pointed out, a king’s daughter.
At about noon she composed herself sufficiently to write a brief, heartfelt but still elegant note to her estranged sister and sovereign lady. It is one of the most poignant of all her correspondence, redolent of fear and past suffering:
If any ever did try this old saying, that a king’s word was more than another man’s oath, I beseech your majesty to verify it to me and to remember your last promise and my last demand that I be not condemned without answer and proof; which now it seems I am, for without cause proved I am by your council from you commanded to the Tower. I know I deserve it not, yet it appears proved. I profess before God I never practised, counselled or consented to anything prejudicial to you or dangerous to the state. Let me answer before you, before I go to the Tower (if possible) - if not, before I am further condemned. Pardon my boldness. I have heard of many cast away for want of coming to their prince.
Here old nightmares surfaced as she saw again Tom Seymour and the ghosts of her girlhood:‘I have heard Somerset say that if his brother had been allowed to speak with him, he would never have suffered…I pray evil persuades not one sister against the other. Wyatt might write me a letter, but I never received any from him. As for the copy of my letter to the french king, God confound me if I ever sent him word, token, or letter by any means.’ She added as postscript:‘I crave but one word of answer.’The rest of the parchment was heavily scored in ink by Elizabeth to prevent additions or forgeries.
40
The letter had one immediate, advantageous effect. While she was writing the tide turned and it was necessary to wait until Palm Sunday, 18 March, to convey her to the Tower. This had been the day originally set for Wyatt and the others to begin their revolt. But whether Elizabeth had bought herself more than one extra day of life remained to be seen.
Chapter Ten