by Sue Reid
I was almost asleep by the time we rode into the courtyard. I felt Sir John’s big hands grasp my waist to lift me down. I was stiff and sore from sitting so long in the saddle. I clung to Nurse’s hand as the big door opened, and my parents stepped forward to greet me. I stood as straight as I could as my mother’s eye travelled over me. Was my hair tucked tidily into my coif? Was the hem of my gown dirty? I curtsied to her and to my father – who seemed quite pleased to see me. But I still do not know why they sent for me. And I will learn nothing more this night. After inquiring of our journey, Sir John and my father went into a huddle in one corner – and I upstairs to bed.
14 February 1547
Dorset Place
Now I know why my parents sent for me. I am to leave home. I am to be Sir Thomas Seymour’s ward and live in his household. I am not a child any more, they said. I must learn to be a young lady now – and a royal one too. (They never let me forget that my mother is the daughter of King Henry’s younger sister.) I am not sorry to leave home. I like Sir Thomas. He is jolly and kind and I am sure will not hit me as often as they do.
I knew he had come when I heard a loud laugh in the hall. Father and Sir Thomas are great friends.
“God’s soul, but she is very small,” I heard him murmur to Father. People always say that about me. “Pray, how old is she?”
“She is not yet ten – but very advanced for her age,” said Father.
“Forward,” muttered my mother. “Jane, curtsy to Sir Thomas. Where are your manners?”
I bent to curtsy when – oh horrors! – my foot caught in the hem of my gown and I toppled forwards. Sir Thomas reached out his arm to catch me. As he righted me my father grunted. My mother said nothing, but they both looked so disappointed in me that I felt tears start to my eyes. I felt sure that they would punish me – and I was right.
There is an ugly red mark on my ear now – and it still rings. Mother said it hurt them to hurt me. She always says that, but I do not believe her.
15 February 1547
Dorset Place
My parents have grand plans for me. They want me to marry the King. Me – Jane Grey – to be queen? I love my cousin Edward dearly, but I would hate to be queen. But that it seems is why I am being sent to live in Sir Thomas’s house as his ward. He is to bring it about. Mother says he is full of idle promises.
“Would I send her away if I did not think it would be for her good?” I heard Father protest. I felt my heart thump and crept up to the door to listen. I knew that they were talking about me.
“Hush, do you want the whole house to hear!” Mother exclaimed. “Do you truly think he has the power to marry our daughter to the King? No, he has made the better bargain. But you never listen to me.”
“I always listen to you, my love,” Father sighed. Mother made some bitter retort and I crept hastily away. I hate it when they argue. Sir Thomas is the King’s favourite uncle. So maybe Edward will listen to what he says. But I hope Mother is right and he cannot arrange this match. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone. But I will have to do what my parents want.
17 February 1547
Seymour Place
I have laid aside my book now. “What a child you are for books!” Nurse exclaimed when she saw my nose stuck in one. “How can you read while the city prepares for the coronation? Come – put it away. Do you not want to watch? Your father will carry a sword in the procession. He is Constable of England, or had you forgotten?”
All along the Strand banners dance in the breeze. Hammers have been banging since daybreak as fine cloths and tapestries are nailed to the walls. Nurse says that they are being hung all along the route the coronation procession will take. Cloth of gold hangs from our house. I went down to see it put up earlier.
The black mourning drapes were taken down as soon as King Henry had been buried at Windsor. I heard a disgusting story about that. In the midst of the funeral the coffin burst open and stuff leaked out. That must have given the mourners a fright. Father was Chief Mourner so he would know if it is true but even if I dared ask him I cannot. For I am living at Seymour Place now. I was brought here yesterday. I came by the river and was sick over the side of the barge. (I am often sick on the water.) At least I can write that Father seemed sorry to see me go. Nurse says that Mother is too, but I do not believe her. Before I left I heard her tell Sir Thomas that he was to monish me as a good father should. I am not to be given too much meat either. I heard that too – as I am sure I was meant to. But I am given plenty meat and have not been punished once. Ha!
One of Lady Seymour’s women is very proud. Her son Jack is to sing before the King! She cannot stop talking about it.
18 February 1547
Seymour Place
Father has been invested as a Knight of the Garter. Nurse says it is a great honour, and while she helped me dress I amused myself wondering who I would honour if I were queen. Edward has made the Lord Protector Duke of Somerset. I suppose he needed to be made a duke as he rules the kingdom for the King – or so everyone says. (I keep my ears about me.) That does not please Sir Thomas, who is only made a baron – Lord Sudeley. (The two brothers hate each other, I have heard. It is sad, if it is true.) But with the title comes a beautiful castle in Gloucestershire, though Sir Thomas grumbles that it is not fit to live in. And he has been made Lord Admiral, which does please him. It suits him, too. I can well imagine Sir Thomas on deck, commanding a fleet of ships. His salty oaths and big-hearted cheerfulness bring a breath of fresh cheer into every room he enters. He has a kind word for everyone. Even his servants love him. Oh, I nearly forgot. John Dudley, Viscount Lisle, is made Earl of Warwick.
19 February 1547
Seymour Place
What a day this has been – a day like none other I have known. I feel tired, but happy. I wonder how Edward feels tonight? Today he rode all the way from the Tower to Westminster. But tomorrow, he will be crowned king! I won’t see the crown put on Edward’s head. But the Admiral has promised to tell me about it.
I am scribbling down everything I can remember before I forget so I can tell my sister Katherine. She will not be pleased that I have already forgotten what the ladies wore. I do not care about fine clothes as much as she does.
We are nearly a mile from the Tower, where the procession began, so we had a long wait before we saw anything. I was found a seat by the window in a small room at the back of the house, which overlooks the street.
I was lucky to have a place at a window. If I had been down in the street I would not have been able to see anything at all. Nurse told me that people were lining it long before daybreak. Railings had been put up to protect people from the horses. But so many people were trying to squeeze in behind them that Nurse says it will be a wonder if no one was crushed.
Sir Thomas let his servants watch. “It is a very important day,” he said. “I would that everyone will mark it.” His mother Lady Seymour is stricter, but I saw two of her maids creep up to the attics to look out of the upper windows.
When the guns thundered from the Tower, I felt little shivers run up and down my spine. The King was on his way! But he took such a long time to arrive that I grew bored, and slipped down from my seat. Just as I did, a harsh blare from the trumpets sent me scuttling back again. Down below people began to cheer and toss their caps in the air as the procession wound its way slowly into the street.
The glory of it quite dazzled me. Even at Court I have never seen a sight like it. Sun shone on the guards’ breastplates and glinted on their pikes. I caught a glimpse of Father, marching amongst the noblemen. But it was Edward who I really wanted to see. My eyes searched for him anxiously. I was afraid he’d pass by before I saw him. Then Nurse pointed out a scarlet and gold caparisoned horse and there on top I saw my cousin, in silver and gold, his white velvet cap sparkling with diamonds, rubies and true loves of pearls. Knights were trying to hold a canopy over his
head, but he rode just ahead of it so that his people could see him. That is just like my kind cousin. He knows that it was he who people had come to see. Ahead of him rode the Lord Protector. He held his head high and looked very proud. He is not at all like his brother. People say that he is the real ruler of the country and likes his own way. On the King’s right side I recognized the dark head of John Dudley, Earl of Warwick. Father says that he is clever and ambitious – and seeks the King’s ear. And I saw how often his face turned to the King. Suddenly I felt a chill as if a shadow had fallen and blotted out the sunshine. My cousin looked so small and the noblemen surrounding him so big. I felt afraid for him. Until he comes of age, it is they who have the true power.
21 February 1547
Seymour Place
I am writing quickly before Nurse returns to put me to bed. I have been bursting to write my journal all day and hope I have not forgotten anything the Admiral told me. He does not know I keep a journal, of course. I love and honour my guardian, but I will never tell him about it. I will never tell anyone about it. It is a secret between Edward and me. King Edward I should say now, but it feels strange to think that my nine-year-old cousin is now King of England.
How the Admiral made me laugh. I do not believe everything he told me about the coronation but Katherine will enjoy hearing about it so I am writing it down all the same. He said one thing I do not think is true – that Edward was seasick on the river – like me, the Admiral added, smiling. The ladies looked at each other – as if he should not have said that.
The coronation train must have been very heavy. Three men were needed to carry it! The Protector carried the crown, of course, and Father, the sceptre. The Duke of Suffolk carried the orb. (He is only eleven!)
They all had to kneel to him and promise to serve him. It makes me giggle to think of those big important men on their knees to a small boy. Then one by one they kissed his cheek. Imagine! There were hundreds of them! Many of them have scratchy beards, too. Poor Edward. It cannot have been very nice.
10 March 1547
Seymour Place
I have a lot to think about and am sure I’ll never be able to sleep. Today, the Admiral took me in his barge downriver to Chelsea, which is where the Queen lives now. (She is now the Queen Dowager, but I will call her the Queen in my journal because that is how I still think of her.) I sat on a cushion under the canopy next to the Admiral. The watermen rowed well and smoothly as if they made this journey often, and for once I was not sick. On the way back the youngest waterman winked at me and I wondered what he’d think if he knew that he had winked at a future queen! Queen in my own right! Of course a lot of people would have to die first – Edward and his sisters Mary and Elizabeth and any children they have. What will Katherine think when I write and tell her! The Queen insists it is true. We three Grey sisters have been named in King Henry’s will. It is because of Mother, she said. If only Mother wasn’t King Henry’s niece. The Queen said I went quite pale when she told me. I wonder what the two royal princesses think? They are both staying there. I made each a deep curtsy. The Lady Mary is thin and old and short-sighted and talks like a man. She and the Queen are great friends, but she always makes me feel uncomfortable. She is to leave here soon and have a household of her own. The Lady Elizabeth is everyone’s pet. She is nearly fourteen and very clever, but I do not like her much. When I addressed her as the Lady Elizabeth, she tossed her head haughtily and said, no, I am Princess Elizabeth. Well, she is not. She may now be third in line for the throne, but some people still say King Henry was not her father. The Queen says I should feel sympathy for her. Remember, she said, she has just lost her father (if he is her father!). The Queen is still in mourning for the King, but she seems very happy. She and the Admiral went away to walk in the gardens while I played with her little dog, Rig. It is easy to see how much they like each other. On our way back to Seymour Place the Admiral asked if I had been happy there. He seemed most anxious that I was. He is such a kind guardian.
15 March 1547
Seymour Place
I have just returned from Court and have stolen away to my chamber to write. I saw the King today! The Queen was at Court too, as was the Admiral who had to bring me, of course. Edward looked tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw the Queen. He is as fond of her as she is of him. I think it is sad she has no children of her own. I had to remember to call my cousin Your Majesty. It sounded odd to my ears, and Edward said he had still not got used to being called it either. I find it hard not to laugh when I see mighty noblemen get down on their knees to talk to him.
The Admiral escorted us into the garden. A thin fog rose from the river. It was very cold but it was easier to talk privately there. The Admiral strolled behind with the Queen, while Edward and I walked on ahead.
“Are you never alone?” I asked him.
“Never,” he replied. “I am well guarded.”
“The Lord Protector—”
“He is an old hen,” Edward complained. “I am barely out of his sight.”
“I have not seen him here today,” I said.
“He is away, fighting the Scots at Berwick,” Edward said. “As is the Earl of Warwick. The Earl was nearly captured,” he told me. “Have you not heard?” Then I had to listen while Edward described the battle they had fought and all the men they had slain. It seemed odd to hear my solemn cousin talk with such relish of a battle.
But I am pleased that he still confides in me – even though he is now king. I was just wondering if I should tell him about my journal when he suddenly said: “Jane, do you keep a journal? Did you keep your promise to me?”
“Indeed I did,” I said. “I have a special book which I use just for that purpose!” I gave him a meaningful look. Edward smiled. “Is it red with a gold clasp?”
“It is,” I said. “I write in it as often as I can.” I glanced back, in case anyone was listening, but the Admiral was deep in conversation with the Queen.
“I am glad you like it,” he said. We giggled. I am pleased we share a secret!
“I will keep our secret,” I said. “But why did you not tell me you sent it?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. “And I knew you would know. Oh Jane,” he said, “I am pleased to see you. I can talk to you.”
“I too am pleased to see you,” I said, but I felt shy suddenly, remembering how my parents want me to marry him. I wonder if he knows that, and if he would like to marry me.
“Have you got a safe place to keep your journal?” Edward asked suddenly.
“I always lock it and I hide the key,” I said.
Edward smiled slyly. “I keep mine in my desk which I can lock. No one but me knows where I keep the key.”
I was silent. What must it be like to be so closely guarded? Even in his journal Edward has to watch what he says. I would not be him for all the riches in Christendom.
The Queen caught up with us then and I listened as Edward asked about the book she has written and when it is to be published. It is called The Lamentation of a Sinner. She is so clever. The Admiral fell behind, and I saw him put up a hand to hide a yawn. He does not share our love of learning.
Katherine has written, demanding to know about the acrobatics. I had promised to tell her about them, but I quite forgot. Edward told me the procession got delayed while he watched them.
17 March 1547
Seymour Place
I caught a chill walking in the garden and have been put to bed. The Admiral must have sent word I was ill for the Queen came to visit me this morning, bringing a posset she had made herself. It tastes much nicer than anything I am dosed with at home – and I am able to sit up in bed now, too. Oh, I do love her.
The Lady Mary has left Chelsea now, the Queen told me. She seemed sad, she is fond of her stepdaughter, and they are about the same age, but I am not sorry. Lady Mary makes me nervous, the way she peers at me. Her dark eyes a
re curiously sharp for someone who is so short-sighted.
I had my Greek testament on my bed, and the Queen asked if I could read it yet. I shut my eyes and recited a few lines from the beginning. I do not think I made many mistakes. She smiled. “You are a clever girl, Jane.” She picked up my doll, which had fallen on the floor. “But do you never play?”
“Sometimes,” I said. “But I’d rather read. Books are much more interesting.”
“You put my young maids of honour to shame,” the Queen said, laying the doll on the bed. I asked if she would tell me about the book she has written. She promises she will – when I am better.
25 March 1547
Seymour Place
I am trying to write, but the noise of builders hammering and banging distracts me. It irritates the Admiral even more. He marches up and down, roaring – God’s blood, does he think he is king? He means his brother, the Lord Protector, who is building a new house nearby, in the Italian style. I say it is a house, but it sounds as if it will be more like a palace.
It will please his wife, who behaves as if she is queen. “He has been well rewarded for his little war against the Scots,” the Admiral harrumphs. I cannot think what he means. His building has upset others too. Churches have been knocked down to make room for his palace. They were popish churches so I am not sorry.
20 April 1547
Seymour Place
