by Sue Reid
For Michael
While the events described and some of the characters in this book may be based on actual historical events and real people, this story is a work of fiction.
Contents
Cover
Title page
Dedication
19 January 1547 Bradgate Park, Leicestershire
25 January 1547 Bradgate Park
31 January 1547 Bradgate Park
5 February 1547 Bradgate Park
11 February 1547 An inn, I forget the name
13 February 1547 Dorset Place
14 February 1547 Dorset Place
15 February 1547 Dorset Place
17 February 1547 Seymour Place
18 February 1547 Seymour Place
19 February 1547 Seymour Place
21 February 1547 Seymour Place
10 March 1547 Seymour Place
15 March 1547 Seymour Place
17 March 1547 Seymour Place
25 March 1547 Seymour Place
20 April 1547 Seymour Place
10 May 1547 Seymour Place
20 May 1547 Chelsea Place
1 June 1547 Chelsea Place
17 June 1547 Chelsea Place
10 July 1547 Chelsea Place
12 July 1547 Chelsea Place
3 January 1548 Chelsea Place
25 January 1548 Chelsea Place
5 February 1548 Chelsea Place
10 February 1548 Chelsea Place
1 March 1548 Chelsea Place
10 April 1548 Chelsea Place
12 April 1548 Chelsea Place
4 May 1548 Chelsea Place
5 May 1548 Chelsea Place
7 May 1548 Chelsea Place
12 May 1548 Chelsea Place
1 June 1548 Chelsea Place
5 July 1548 Sudeley Castle
15 July 1548 Sudeley Castle
3 August 1548 Sudeley Castle
11 August 1548 Sudeley Castle
30 August 1548 Sudeley Castle
Late
31 August 1548 Sudeley Castle
1 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
2 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
3 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
5 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
7 September 1548 The Queen’s funeral, Sudeley Castle
22 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
25 September 1548 Sudeley Castle
30 September 1548 Bradgate Park
14 October 1548 Bradgate Park
16 October 1548 Bradgate Park
21 October 1548 Bradgate Park
22 October 1548 Bradgate Park
27 October 1548 An inn, outside the city
29 October 1548 Seymour Place
8 November 1548 Seymour Place
15 December 1548 Seymour Place
20 December 1548 Seymour Place
21 December 1548 Seymour Place
23 December 1548 Seymour Place
10 January 1549 Seymour Place
12 January 1549 Seymour Place
13 January 1549 Dorset Place
18 January 1549 Dorset Place
25 January 1549 Dorset Place
23 February 1549 Dorset Place
19 March 1549 Dorset Place
21 March 1549 Dorset Place
24 March 1549 Dorset Place
2 April 1549 Dorset Place
16 May 1549 Bradgate Park
17 May 1549 Bradgate Park
30 May 1549 Bradgate Park
Whitsuntide 1549 Bradgate Park
16 June 1549 Bradgate Park
17 June 1549 Bradgate Park
20 August 1549 Bradgate Park
1 September 1549 Bradgate Park
12 September 1549 Bradgate Park
1 October 1549 Bradgate Park
9 October 1549 Bradgate Park
16 October 1549 Bradgate Park
20 October 1549 Bradgate Park
21 October 1549 Bradgate Park
19 November 1549 Tilty
29 November 1549 Hunsdon
30 November 1549 Hunsdon
Christmas 1549 Tilty
10 February 1550 Dorset Place
15 March 1550 Dorset Place
2 May 1550 Dorset Place
3 June 1550 Dorset Place
10 August 1550 Bradgate Park
12 August 1550 Bradgate Park
31 December 1550 Bradgate Park
1 January 1551 Bradgate Park
15 March 1551 Dorset Place
25 March 1551 Dorset Place
18 April 1551 Dorset Place
20 May 1551 Bradgate Park
21 May 1551 Bradgate Park
29 May 1551 Bradgate Park
15 July 1551 Bradgate Park
18 July 1551 Bradgate Park
19 July 1551 Bradgate Park
28 September 1551 Bradgate Park
29 September 1551 Bradgate Park
30 September 1551 Bradgate Park
1 October 1551 Bradgate Park
8 October 1551 Court
9 October 1551 Court
10 October 1551 Court
11 October 1551 Court
15 October 1551 Court
17 October 1551 Dorset Place
18 October 1551 Dorset Place
19 October 1551 Court
25 October 1551 Suffolk Place
31 October 1551 Suffolk Place
3 November 1551 Suffolk Place
5 November 1551 Suffolk Place
6 November 1551 Suffolk Place
1 December 1551 Suffolk Place
2 December 1551 Suffolk Place
8 December 1551 Suffolk Place
Christmas 1551 Suffolk Place
New Year 1552 Suffolk Place
Twelfth Night – 6 January 1552 Court
22 January 1552 Suffolk Place
5 March 1552 Suffolk Place
2 April 1552 Suffolk Place
23 April 1552 – St George’s Day Suffolk Place
10 May 1552 Bradgate Park
20 August 1552 Sheen, Richmond
22 August 1552 Sheen, Richmond
25 August 1552 Sheen, Richmond
28 August 1552 Sheen, Richmond
1 January 1553 Court
6 February 1553 Court
10 February 1553 Court
10 March 1553 Sheen, Richmond
11 April 1553 Suffolk Place
14 April 1553 Suffolk Place
26 April 1553 Suffolk Place
28 April 1553 Suffolk Place
18 May 1553 Suffolk Place
Whitsuntide 25 May 1553 Durham House
26 May 1553 Durham House
3 June 1553 Suffolk Place
4 June 1553 Suffolk Place
10 June 1553 Durham House
18 June 1553 Suffolk Place
19 June 1553 Suffolk Place
26 June 1553 Suffolk Place
29 June 1553 Suffolk Place
1 July 1553 Suffolk Place
2 July 1553 Durham House
3 July 1553 Durham House
4 July 1553 Chelsea Place
9 July 1553 Syon, Richmond
10 July 1553 The Tower of London
11 July 1553 The Tower of London
12 July 1553 The Tower of London
13 July 1553 The Tower of London
14 July 1553 The Tower of London
16 July 1553 The Tower of London
17 July 1553 The Tower of London
18 July 1553 The Tower of London
19 July 1553, morning, The Tower of London
Later
19 July 1553, night, The Tower of London
25 July 1553 The Tower of London
26 July 1553 The Tower of London
27 July 1553 The Tower of London
3 Au
gust 1553 The Tower of London
Later
8 August 1553 The Tower of London
13 August 1553 The Tower of London
21 August 1553 The Tower of London
22 August 1553 The Tower of London
28 August 1553 The Tower of London
31 August 1553 The Tower of London
10 October 1553 The Tower of London
10 November 1553 The Tower of London
13 November 1553 The Tower of London
20 November 1553 The Tower of London
18 December 1553 The Tower of London
5 January 1554 The Tower of London
6 January 1554 The Tower of London
2 February 1554 The Tower of London
3 February 1554 The Tower of London
6 February 1554 The Tower of London
7 February 1554 The Tower of London
8 February, 1554 The Tower of London
9 February 1554 The Tower of London
11 February 1554 The Tower of London
Historical note
Timeline
My story Augustus
Copyright
19 January 1547
Bradgate Park, Leicestershire
Today I kept my promise to Edward and began my diary. He has sent me a beautiful book to write it in. It is bound in red velvet and has a gold clasp and key. I will lock it every night, and hang the key under my bodice. I am trying to find a safe place to keep it in. My sister Katherine is very nosy and I do not want her to find it.
I am calling it the chronicle of Lady Jane Grey. Edward has begun a chronicle too. He told me about it when I last saw him, at Court. “My tutor Master Cheke told me I should write a diary,” he said. “He says it will be good for my writing and help me to write my thoughts clearly.”
“I have never written a diary,” I told him.
“Then you must,” he said. “I command you to!” We both burst out laughing. The courtiers who were in the chamber – Edward is seldom on his own – looked at us curiously. Edward doesn’t laugh often. But he is my favourite cousin. He likes to study as much as me. I wish I saw him more often. We are the same age, but I will be ten first!
I had almost forgotten my promise when a messenger galloped up to the house this morning and my nurse summoned me. She told me I was wanted below. A package had arrived for me. I was excited and ran downstairs. The messenger had ridden all the way from London to bring it to me, and that is a very long way – several days’ hard ride from my home, Bradgate Park, in Leicestershire.
The messenger bowed and said, “Are you the Lady Jane Grey?”
“I am,” I told him.
“Then this is for you,” he said. With a flourish he handed me the package.
“Who is it from?” I said turning it over in my hands. It was wrapped in fine cloth and felt hard like a book.
“That I cannot say,” he said. “I was told to tell you that it comes from the Court. And I was to put it into no other hands but yours.”
You see! Who else could it be from but my cousin? I understand him and he understands me. I am so pleased with my book. I will try and write neatly in it and not blot the pages. It will be a great comfort to me I am sure, for I can say in it whatever I like. Mother says I am too apt to say what I think and it is not always what she wants to hear. I will write down important things too so that when I am old and forgetful like my nurse, I can look back and remember how I felt when I was nearly ten.
25 January 1547
Bradgate Park
I heard the servants gossiping this morning while they swept out the old rushes in the great chamber. (I am glad they did. It stinks.) They think the King will die soon. It was lucky no one but me heard them. It is treason to talk about the King’s death.
The King has been ailing as long as I can remember. He can barely walk and has to be winched into his chair by pulleys. The last time Mother took me to Court I saw him carried in it down a long passage by his servants, shouting at them to be careful. He looked like a great fat pincushion, stuck with jewels. I curtsied but I don’t think he remembered who I was (I am his great-niece). His eyes were screwed up with pain. I felt sorry for him, even though I know he had wanted to put away his wife, Queen Katherine. The Queen is a good, kind and learned woman. Edward loves her and so do I. I want to be just like her when I grow up.
My mother is one of Queen Katherine’s ladies of the chamber. She says that when I am older – if I am a good girl – I will go to Court and serve the Queen, too. I cannot think that that time will ever come. My parents chastise me A LOT and say that I have much to learn still.
They always say it is for my own good, but I do not know why. My tutor Master Aylmer does not need to beat me to make me work hard. And I strive to be an obedient and dutiful daughter to them.
I must put away my diary now. It is nearly time for lessons and I must finish my translation or Dr Aylmer will be displeased with me. I am learning Greek and can read and write it quite well now.
31 January 1547
Bradgate Park
I have something very important to write in my journal today. The old king has died – and my cousin Edward is now king. I am sure he will be a very good one. He is being brought up a Protestant like me. Protestants do not believe like Catholics that you need the Pope or priests to explain God’s word. And we don’t believe in purgatory, or confessing your sins to a priest, or paying money to go to heaven. Catholics even think that the bread and wine you take at communion is actually the body and blood of Christ (ugh!).
King Henry is to be buried at Windsor. Father – who is Marquess of Dorset – will be very busy arranging the funeral and Edward’s coronation too.
Edward will have to go to the Tower soon. That is the palace in London where all new monarchs begin their reign. If I were queen I would change that ancient law. The Tower of London is a horrible place, a fortress and prison as well as a royal palace. I would hate to spend a single night inside its walls even if I was queen. Terrible things happen in the Tower. People have their heads cut off or are tortured and left to rot in its dungeons. Edward will stay in the royal apartments, of course. They will be richly furnished, the walls hung with tapestries and sweet herbs strewn among the rushes to make the chambers smell sweet. And as soon as King Henry is buried all the black drapes that are put up when a monarch dies will be taken down and the city made ready for Edward’s coronation. I feel sorry for my cousin though. Who would want to be king? I cannot think of anything I would like less. My sister Katherine cannot understand why. She is not at all like me. She would like to go to Court and wear a new gown every day.
5 February 1547
Bradgate Park
I am writing lying on my bed. My nurse Mistress Ellen sits sewing by the window, my gowns heaped around her. She is in a mighty pother! My parents have summoned me to London and she says I have nothing fit to wear. One gown is stained, another is too short and I am bursting out of a third. I do not know why they have sent for me. Sir John Harington rode up yesterday, bringing a letter from Father, but all I have been told is that my parents have important news for me. We are to leave as soon as I can be got ready. Sir John will escort me to London. He is a gentleman in the service of Father’s friend, Sir Thomas Seymour.
I wish I did not have to go. Every time I think about it, my stomach ties itself in knots. Nurse says that I am a lucky girl. “You will see the King’s coronation procession,” she told me. “What girl does not want to see a young king crowned? And he is your cousin too!” She smiled. “I saw your great-uncle King Henry crowned when I was not much older than you.” She sighed. “He was so handsome. All the girls were in love with him.” In spite of myself I giggled. How could anyone have been in love with King Henry. He was so fat!
I have a pile of books by my bed. Nurse says we will never fit them all in, but I said she must try. I love my nurse dearly, but she doesn’t understand h
ow important my books are to me. They are like my best friends. I am happiest of all when I am left in peace with them.
Katherine would like to go. I wish she could – I wish she could go instead of me. I have promised to write and tell her all about it.
11 February 1547
An inn, I forget the name
I do not know what the hour is or how long I have been sitting here, my feet tucked under me for warmth. I cannot sleep. My candle has burned down nearly to a stub, but the moon throws a pool of light into the room so I can see well enough to write. My nurse sleeps soundly. I envy her. She has no fears about what the morning will bring. I have lost count how many nights it is since we left Bradgate. Tonight is our last night on the road. Tomorrow we reach Westminster. I had rather not think about that so will try to distract myself by writing about our journey. We are staying at an inn. Our arrival caused much excitement. People came out to gawp at us – people always do I’ve noticed. They stare at my fine clothes, and the carts packed with chests and boxes. The innkeeper was summoned and was in such a fluster when he learnt who we were that his foot slipped on a frozen puddle and down he went causing much merriment among the onlookers. He didn’t find it funny and boxed the ears of the poor stable hand who ran up to tend to our horses. His wife escorted us to our chambers and we were brought small beer and a platter of cold meats. But I felt too tired and nervous to eat much. One of my women slid a pan into the bed to warm the sheets and I knelt by it to say my prayers – at least I said the words but they did not mean anything. I can only pray that God understands! And that no harm befalls me this night. If only I could forget that tomorrow I will be home in London.
13 February 1547
Dorset Place
I found a big bite on my leg this morning and am trying not to scratch it. There were bugs in my bed at the inn. But I would rather sleep in a bug-ridden bed than amongst the softest cleanest sheets at home.
We arrived home by nightfall yesterday. The time flew – I felt as if I had barely been lifted back into the saddle before I heard Sir John’s hearty voice say “London” and saw him lift his whip to point out the spire of St Paul’s church. It was not far enough away for my liking and I turned away my face. With each clatter of the horses’ hoofs we were drawing nearer and nearer to my parents’ house where I would find out why they had summoned me. We reached London just as the bells rang out, warning us that the gates were shutting for the night. My parents’ house, Dorset Place, is a little way outside the city, on a street called the Strand, which runs between London and Westminster. It was dark as we rode down it and Sir John hired a link boy to light our way.
