“You will do well not to neglect my caution,” replied Renard. “As yet the news is only known to me. Tomorrow it will be known to all within the Tower. Fly! while it is yet time.”
“No,” replied Jane proudly. “Were your news true, which I doubt, I would not fly. If I must resign my crown, it shall not be at your bidding. But I am still a Queen; and you shall feel that I am so. Guards I” she cried in a loud voice, “arrest this traitor.”
But before the door could be opened, Renard had darted behind the arras and disappeared. Nor upon searching the wall could the attendants discover by what means he had contrived his escape. Soon after this, Lord Guilford Dudley returned, and his rage and consternation when he learned what had occurred was unbounded. He flew to the White Tower, where he found that Simon Renard, De Noailles, and the Earls of Pembroke and Arundel, who had been confined in a small room adjoining the council-chamber, had disappeared. The guards affirmed positively that they were not privy to their flight, and unable to obtain any clue to the mystery, Dudley returned in a state of great perplexity to the palace, where a fresh surprise awaited him.
Jane had scarcely recovered from the surprise occasioned by Renard’s mysterious visit, when an usher presented himself, and delivering a ring to her, said that it had been given him by an old woman, who implored an audience. Glancing at the ornament, the Queen instantly recognized it as that she had given to Gunnora Braose, and desired the attendant to admit her. Accordingly, the old woman was introduced, and approaching Jane, threw herself on her knees before her.
“What seek you, my good dame?” asked Jane. “I promised to grant any boon you might ask. Are you come to claim fulfilment of my promise?”
“Listen to me, gracious lady,” said the old woman, “and do not slight my counsel, for what I am about to say to you is of the deepest import. Your crown — your liberty — your life is in danger! The Council mean to depose you on the morrow, and proclaim Mary Queen. Call to mind the warning I gave you before you entered this fatal fortress. My words have come to pass. You are betrayed — lost!”
“Rise, my good woman,” said Jane, “and compose yourself. You may speak the truth. My enemies may prevail against me, but they shall not subdue me. It is now too late to retreat. Having accepted the crown, I cannot — will not lay it aside, till it is wrested from me.”
“It will be wrested from you on the block, dear lady,” cried Gunnora. “Listen to me, I beseech you. To-night you can make your retreat. To-morrow it will be too late.”
“It is too late already,” cried a stern voice behind them, and Renard again presented himself. He was accompanied by the Earl of Pembroke, and Cholmondeley, who was muffled in the jailer’s cloak. “Lady Jane Dudley,” continued the ambassador, in an authoritative voice, “there is one means of saving your life, and only one. Sign this document;” and he extended a parchment towards her. “It is your abdication. Sign it, and I will procure you a free pardon for yourself and your husband from Queen Mary.”
“Mary is not Queen, — nor will I sign it,” replied Jane.
“Then hear me,” replied Renard. “In Queen Mary’s name, I denounce you as an usurper. And if you further attempt to exercise the functions of royalty, you will not escape the block.”
“He does not overrate your danger,” interposed Gunnora.
“What make you here, old woman?” said Renard, addressing her.
“I have come on the same errand as yourself,” she replied, “to warn this noble but ill-advised lady of her peril.”
“Have you likewise informed her why you were brought to the Tower?” demanded Renard sternly.
“No,” replied Gunnora.
“Then she shall learn it from me,” continued the ambassador, “though it is not the season I would have chosen for the disclosure. This woman administered poison to your predecessor, Edward VI., by order of the Duke of Northumberland.”
“It is false,” cried Jane; “I will not believe it.”
“It is true,” said Gunnora.
“Wretch! you condemn yourself,” said Jane.
“I know it,” rejoined Gunnora; “but place me on the rack, and I will repeat the charge.”
“What motive could the Duke have for so foul a crime?” demanded the Queen.
“This,” replied Gunnora; “he wished to remove the King so suddenly, that the princesses Mary and Elizabeth might have no intelligence of his decease. But this is not all, madam.”
“What more remains to be told?” asked Jane.
“You were to be the next victim,” returned the old woman. “Northumberland aimed at the supreme power. With this view, he wed you to his son; with this view, he procured the letters patent from King Edward declaring you his successor; with this view, he proclaimed you Queen, raised you to the throne, and would have made your husband King. His next step was to have poisoned you.”
“Poisoned me!” exclaimed Jane, horror-stricken.
“Ay, poisoned you,” repeated Gunnora. “I was to administer the fatal draught to you as I did to Edward. It was therefore I warned you not to enter the Tower. It was therefore I councilled you to resign a sceptre which I knew you could not sustain. I saw you decked out like a victim for the sacrifice, and I strove to avert the fatal blow — but in vain.”
“Alas! I begin to find your words are true,” replied Jane. “But if aught remains to me of power, if I am not a queen merely in name I will now exert it. My lord of Pembroke, I command you to summon the guard, and arrest this traitor,” pointing to Simon Renard. “I will not sleep till I have had his head. How, my lord, do you refuse to obey me? Hesitate, and you shall share his doom.”
At this moment, Cholmondeley threw off his cloak, and advancing towards the ambassador, said, “M. Simon Renard, you are the Queen’s prisoner.”
“Cholmondeley!” exclaimed Renard, starting; “can it be?”
“It is, traitor,” replied the esquire; “but I will now unmask you and your projects.”
“Back, sir!” cried Renard, in a tone so authoritative that all were overawed by it. “Lay hands upon me, and I give a signal which will cause a general massacre, in which none of Queen Mary’s enemies will be spared. Lady Jane Dudley,” he continued, addressing her, “I give you till to-morrow to reflect upon what course you will pursue. Resign the crown you have wrongfully assumed, and I pledge my word to obtain your pardon. But Northumberland’s life is forfeited, and that of all of his race.”
“Think you I will sacrifice my husband, traitor?” cried Jane. “Seize him,” she added to Cholmondeley.
But before the young man could advance, Renard had unsheathed his sword, and placed himself in a posture of defence. “Lady Jane Dudley,” he ejaculated, “I give you till to-morrow. Your own conduct will decide your fate.”
“Call the guard,” cried Jane.
The young esquire vainly endeavoured to obey this command, but he was attacked and beaten off by the ambassador and the Earl of Pembroke, who quickly retreating towards the masked door, passed through it and closed it after them. At this juncture, Lord Guilford Dudley returned at the head of the guard. The occurrences of the last few minutes were hastily explained to him, and he was about to break open the secret door, when Nightgall said, “If I have a free pardon, I will conduct your lordship to the secret retreat of the Council, and unravel a plot which shall place them in your power.”
“Do this,” replied Lord Guilford, “and you shall not only have a free pardon, but a great reward.”
“Take a sufficient guard with you, and follow me,” rejoined Nightgall.
Dudley complied, and the party proceeded on their errand while Cholmondeley remained with the Queen and Cicely; and although his transports at beholding her again were somewhat alloyed by the perilous position in which Jane stood, he nevertheless tasted sufficient happiness to recompense him in some degree for his recent misery. Withdrawing to another apartment, Jane awaited in the utmost anxiety her husband’s return. This did not occur for some hours, and w
hen he appeared she saw at once, from his looks, that his search had been unsuccessful.
The remainder of the night was passed between the Queen and her consort in anxious deliberation. Cholmondeley was entrusted with the command of the guard, and after a few hours’ rest and other refreshments, of which he stood greatly in need, he proceeded with Lord Clinton, who still apparently remained firm in his adherence, to make the rounds of the Tower. Nothing unusual was noticed: the sentinels were at their posts. But as Cholmondeley looked towards Tower Hill, he fancied he observed a great crowd assembled, and pointed out the appearance to Lord Clinton, who seemed a little confused, but declared he could perceive nothing. Cholmondeley, however, was satisfied that he was not deceived; but apprehending no danger from the assemblage, he did not press the point. Towards daybreak he again looked out in the same quarter, but the mob had disappeared. Meanwhile, Gunnora Braose had been conducted to the Bowyer Tower, and locked within the chamber she had occupied, while Nightgall was placed in strict confinement.
CHAPTER XVI.
HOW THE COUNCIL DEPOSED QUEEN JANE; AND HOW SHE FLED FROM THE TOWER.
AT length, the last morning which was to behold Jane Queen dawned, and after an agitated and sleepless night, she addressed herself to her devotions, and endeavoured to prepare for the dangerous and difficult part she had to play. The Duke of Suffolk tried to persuade her to abdicate. But her husband, who, it has been already observed, inherited his father’s ambitious nature, besought her not to part with the crown.
“It has been dearly purchased,” he urged, “and must be boldly maintained. Let us meet the Council courageously, and we shall triumph.”
To this Jane assented. But it was evident from her manner she had but slight hopes.
At an early hour the Lord Mayor, the aldermen, and all the civic authorities who had been summoned, arrived. Cranmer and Ridley came soon after. The Council were then summoned, and by ten o’clock all were assembled, excepting the Earls of Pembroke and Arundel, Simon Renard, and De Noailles. As soon as Jane was seated beneath the state canopy, she ordered a pursuivant to summon them. Proclamation being made, a stir was heard at the lower end of the council-chamber, and the absentees presented themselves. All four advanced boldly towards the throne, and took their places among the Council. Jane then arose, and with great dignity and self-possession thus addressed the assemblage: —
“My lords,” she said, “I have summoned you it may be for the last time, to deliberate on the course to be pursued to check the formidable tumults and rebellions that have been moved against me and my crown. Of that crown I cannot doubt I have lawful possession, since it was tendered me by your lordships, who have all sworn allegiance to me. Fully confiding, therefore, in your steadiness to my service, which neither with honour, safety, nor duty you can now forsake, I look to you for support in this emergency.”
Here a murmur arose among the Council.
“What!” exclaimed Jane: “do you desert me at the hour of need? Do you refuse me your council and assistance?”
“We do,” replied several voices.
“Traitors!” exclaimed Lord Guilford Dudley, “you have passed your own sentence.”
“Not so, my lord,” replied Simon Renard. “It is you who have condemned yourself. Lady Jane Dudley,” he continued in a loud voice, “you who have wrongfully usurped the title and station of Queen, — in your presence I proclaim Mary, sister to the late King Edward the Sixth, and daughter of Henry the Eighth of famous memory, Queen of England and Ireland, and very owner of the crown, government, and title of England and Ireland, and all things thereunto belonging.”
“God save Queen Mary!” cried the Council.
A few dissentient voices were raised. But the Earl of Pembroke drew his sword, and cried in a loud voice, “As Heaven shall help me, I will strike that man dead who refuses to shout for Queen Mary.” And he threw his cap in the air.
“Hear me,” continued Renard, “and learn that resistance is in vain. I hereby proclaim a free pardon, in Queen Mary’s name, to all who shall freely acknowledge her, — excepting always the family of the Duke of Northumberland, who is a traitor, and upon whose head a price is set. I require your Grace,” he added to Suffolk, “to deliver up the keys of the Tower.”
“They are here,” replied the Duke, pointing to Magog who bore them.
“Do you yield, my lord?” cried Lord Guilford passionately.
“It is useless to contend further,” replied Suffolk. “All is lost.”
“True,” replied Jane. “My lords, I resign the crown into your hands; and Heaven grant you may prove more faithful to Mary than you have been to me. In obedience to you, my lord,” she continued, addressing her husband, “I acted a violence on myself, and have been guilty of a grievous offence. But the present is my own act; and I willingly abdicate the throne to correct another’s fault, if so great a fault can be corrected by my resignation and sincere acknowledgment.”
“You shall not abdicate it, Jane,” cried Dudley fiercely. “I will not yield. Stand by me, Cholmondeley, and these audacious traitors shall find I am still master here. Let those who are for Queen Jane surround the throne.”
As he spoke he glanced round authoritatively, but no one stirred.
“Speak!” he cried, in accents of rage and disappointment. “Are ye all traitors? Is no one true to his allegiance?”
But no answer was returned.
“They are no traitors, my lord,” said Simon Renard. “They are loyal subjects of Queen Mary.”
“He speaks truly, my dear lord,” replied Jane. “It is useless to contend further. I am no longer Queen.”
So saying, she descended from the throne.
“My lords,” she continued, addressing the Council “you are now masters here. Have I your permission to retire?”
“You have, noble lady,” replied Pembroke. “But it grieves me to add, that you must perforce remain within the Tower till the pleasure of her Highness respecting you has been ascertained.”
“A prisoner!” exclaimed Jane, trembling. “And my husband, you will suffer him to accompany me?”
“It cannot be,” interposed Simon Renard harshly; “Lord Guilford Dudley must be separately confined.”
“You cannot mean this cruelty, sir?” cried Jane indignantly.
“Do not sue for me, Jane,” rejoined Dudley. “I will not accept the smallest grace at his hands.”
“Guards!” cried Renard, “I command you, in Queen Mary’s name, to arrest Lord Guilford Dudley, and convey him to the Beauchamp Tower.”
The order was instantly obeyed. Jane then took a tender farewell of her husband, and accompanied by Cicely and Cholmondeley, and others of her attendants, was escorted to the palace.
She had no sooner taken her departure, than letters were despatched by the Council to the Duke of Northumberland, commanding him instantly to disband his army; and the Earl of Arundel was commissioned to proceed with a force to arrest him.
“I have a brave fellow who shall accompany your lordship,” said Renard, motioning to Gilbert, who stood among his followers.
“Hark’ee, sirrah!” he added, “you have already approved your fidelity to Queen Mary. Approve it still further by the capture of the Duke, and, in the Queen’s name, I promise you a hundred pounds in lands to you and your heirs, and the degree of an esquire. And now, my lords, to publicly proclaim Queen Mary.”
With this the whole train departed from the Tower, and proceeded to Cheapside, where, by sound of trumpet, the new sovereign was proclaimed by the title of “Mary, Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith.”
Shouts rent the air, and every manifestation of delight was exhibited. “Great was the triumph,” writes an eyewitness of the ceremony; “for my part, I never saw the like, and, by the report of others, the like was never seen. The number of caps that were thrown up at the proclamation was not to be told. The Earl of Pembroke threw away his cap full of angels. I saw myself money thrown out of the win
dows for joy. The bonfires were without number; and what with shouting and crying of the people, and ringing of bells, there could no man hear almost what another said — besides banqueting, and skipping the streets for joy.”
The proclamation over, the company proceeded to St. Paul’s where Te Deum was solemnly sung. It is a curious illustration of the sudden change of feeling, that the Duke of Suffolk himself proclaimed Mary on Tower Hill.
The utmost confusion reigned throughout the Tower. Some few there were who regretted the change of sovereigns, but the majority were in favor of Mary. Northumberland, in fact, was so universally hated by all classes, and it was so notorious that the recent usurpation was contrived only for his own aggrandizement, that though Jane was pitied, no commiseration was felt for her husband or her ambitious father-in-law. Great rejoicings were held in the Tower-green, where an immense bonfire was lighted, and a whole ox roasted. Several casks of ale were also broached, and mead and other liquors were distributed to the warders and the troops. Of these good things the three gigantic warders and Xit partook; and Magog was so elated, that he plucked up courage to propose to Dame Placida, and to the dwarf’s infinite dismay and mortification was accepted. Lord Guilford Dudley witnessed these rejoicings from the windows of the Beauchamp Tower, in which he was confined; and as he glanced upon the citadel opposite his prison, now lighted up by the gleams of the fire, he could not help reflecting with bitterness what a change a few days had effected. The voices which only nine days ago had shouted for Jane were now clamoring for Mary; and of the thousands which then would have obeyed his slightest nod, not one would acknowledge him now. From a prince he had become a captive, and his palace was converted into a dungeon. Such were the agonizing thoughts of Northumberland’s ambitious son — and such, or nearly such, were those of his unhappy consort, who in her chamber in the palace was a prey to the bitterest reflection.
Attended only by Cholmondeley and Cicely, Jane consumed the evening in sad but unavailing lamentations. About midnight, as she had composed her thoughts by applying herself to her wonted solace in affliction — study, she was aroused by a noise in the wall, and presently afterwards a masked door opened, and Gunnora Braose presented herself. Jane instantly rose, and demanded the cause of the intrusion. Gunnora laid her finger on her lips, and replied in a low tone, “I am come to liberate you.”
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