In the Shadow of the Crown (43 page)

De Profundis
was said, and Garter's voice rang out to tell everyone present that there was a new king.

“Edward the Sixth, by Grace of God, King of England, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith and Sovereign of the most noble Order of the Garter.”

Gardiner caught my eyes. There was speculation in his. He must be feeling very uneasy.

He knew that the new King had leanings toward the Reformed Faith and that he would be in the hands of his uncles—and Gardiner was a staunch Catholic.

I knew what he was thinking as he looked at me. I was no longer young. I was thirty-one years of age… old for marriage, but when the crown was considered, youth was not such a desirable asset. There was Edward, for example, whose youth was greatly deplored. No, I was a good age for a ruler and would be so for another ten years or more. The King was not ten years old and was delicate.

I read hope in Gardiner's eyes; and I felt my mission was coming very close.

IT SOON BECAME CLEAR TO ME THAT MY BROTHER WAS fanatically devoted to the Reformed Faith. I had, of course, known he leaned that way, for he had been instructed by Katharine Parr and his uncles, and they were the people who had most affected him.

He was a strange little boy, and being aware of how important he had become had its effect upon him. He had been affectionate enough as a little child. He had loved Mrs. Penn dearly and also the Queen; he had been devoted to Jane Grey; he had been fond of me and had adored Elizabeth.

It was a great misfortune that the crown should be thrust on him when he was so young. He must have felt the need to preserve his dignity, being in the center of so much ceremony, surrounded by so many ambitious men, all trying to guide him—for their own benefit, of course. He was very serious; his delicate health had made him turn to his books rather than indulge in the outdoor life. He was wise for his years, but of course not wise enough to deal with the intrigue, scheming and machinations which must necessarily go on around him.

His uncle, Edward, Earl of Hertford, was the one who had chief control. My father had ordered this in his will, in which he had pronounced Edward as his sole heir and named eighteen executors to act as a Council of Regency during Edward's minority. The two chief among them were the Earl of Hertford and Viscount Lisle.

On his father's death Edward was brought with Elizabeth from Enfield, and from there the new King was taken to the Tower to prepare for his coronation. There he created his uncle Edward Duke of Somerset, and Lord Lisle became the Earl of Warwick and Thomas Seymour Lord Seymour of Sudley and Lord High Admiral of the Fleet.

The coronation was a sumptuous occasion much enjoyed by the people; there was little they found so touching as to see a child crowned King of the Realm. It did not occur to them that such a state of affairs could be highly dangerous.

He was acknowledged Supreme Head of the Church.

I was fully aware that my position was as precarious as it had ever been. Moreover I had lost my good friend Chapuys. His health had been failing for some time, and he had now retired. In his place as the imperial ambassador was François van der Delft. I trusted him, for I was sure the Emperor would not have sent him if I could not do so.

The Emperor had always been for me the rock on which I could rest if need be, although there had been times when he appeared to be a little indifferent to my plight. But I always convinced myself that he was a man of great power and many commitments and that, if anyone could help me, he would be the one. But I knew I was going to miss the special relationship I had had with Chapuys.

I was now first in line to the throne. I represented the Catholic party, and if, as I believed, the religion of the country was now to be changed, there would certainly be many who disagreed with what was done; and those people would look to me as a leader.

On the advice of van der Delft, I retired from Court. I made the excuse of mourning my father, and my own ill health. I went from Havering to Wanstead House, Newhall and Framlingham Castle. I was not poor now, for I had an income from Newhall, Beaulieu and Hunsdon, and I had just acquired Kenninghall, which had come to me with the fall of the Howards.

Norfolk still remained in the Tower, and because my father had not signed his death warrant, he was allowed to languish there.

I guessed I should remain in obscurity until I saw more clearly what was going to happen.

My sister Elizabeth was to live with the Queen, and I was sure Katharine would be pleased about that. She had always been the good stepmother. Life had changed for Elizabeth, too. She was no longer merely the bastard daughter of the King, not to be received at Court; she was second in the line of succession, coming after me; and she had her income of £3,000 a year, just as I did. So I could imagine she was not displeased with life. She had always been on friendly terms with Edward; and if I knew her, now that he was King, she would not allow that friendship to diminish. She was now a very knowledgeable fourteen.

I had given up all thought of marriage for myself. To have been betrothed so many times and for it all to have come to nothing had had its effect on me. I knew there was concern about my health. It seems one's body is not one's own if one is royal. It was known that I suffered periodic pains and difficulties—there were spies among my bedchamber women—and this caused a certain amount of speculation as to whether I should be able to bear children. I knew the state of my health had been discussed in all the Courts of Europe. It may have been one reason why my proposed marriages had come to nothing.

Now there was another hint of marriage…from Thomas Seymour! I was amazed and appalled. Was there no end to the aspirations of that family! Their sister Jane had happened to please the King, and she had done that which none of the others had been able to—bear the heir to the throne who
was now the King; and because of this the obscure family from Wiltshire had royal ambitions. So Thomas Seymour, now Lord Seymour and High Admiral, had the temerity to hint that there might be a marriage between us. I guessed he thought that Edward would not have long to reign, and then glory for me… and Thomas Seymour saw himself as Queen's consort ruling the land. I wondered what his brother Edward thought of that project.

I had not had time to answer the proposal with the scorn it warranted before I heard another rumor. He had offered marriage to Elizabeth! How did my fourteen-year-old sister feel about that? I had seen her eyes sparkle when she looked at him; he was a very handsome man, and even at her age she was already susceptible to such as he was. What had her answer been? That was if he had truly made the offer. One could never trust rumor.

There was yet another. This time Anne of Cleves was named. I could scarcely believe that. What would Anne of Cleves have to offer an ambitious man? An exqueen could not possibly compare with a woman who might have the crown.

Then came the whispers that Seymour was already married… not to any of those mentioned in the recent rumors, but to his one-time sweetheart, Katharine Parr.

I could not believe it at first. Could the Queen really have married so soon after the death of the King? It was most unseemly. But having seen the manner in which that man could attract women, I believed he might have succeeded in persuading her. After all, she had been in love with him before the King chose her—and she had certainly hoped to marry Seymour then. So I did believe there might be some truth in this rumor.

I was amazed to receive a letter from the Admiral in which he asked my opinion of the proposed marriage to the Queen, and asking me to give my sanction to it.

I was flattered to be asked, yet if the rumor were true and he was already married, why ask my sanction? I wrote back, primly I suppose, saying that I was the last one of whom he should ask such advice, as I knew nothing of these matters; but as it was scarcely six months since Katharine had become a widow, I thought it might be soon for her to be contemplating matrimony.

And as it turned out, he was at the time actually married. What a reckless man he was! That was to become more and more apparent as time passed.

It was not long before the new King's love of the Reformed Faith was apparent. Somerset and most of the councillors were of his way of thinking; and it seemed that the new religion had come to England.

Reformers from all over Europe were arriving in England. They sang the new King's praises.

When Gardiner preached at Winchester some five months after Edward's accession, it was expected that he, as a Roman Catholic, would attack the new doctrines and find himself in trouble. But Gardiner was a wise man; he skirted the difficult ground and proclaimed the King Supreme Head of the Church. I was sure this disappointed his enemies.

I lived very quietly throughout that year. Seymour's marriage to the Queen had caused a great deal of disapproval, but he shrugged that aside and Katharine was supremely happy. I was pleased for her, though I thought she had shown a lamentable lack of discretion in marrying so soon. I supposed she feared to lose him if she delayed. I wondered if she knew he had looked around for a match which might have been more advantageous to his ambitions. However, I was glad she was getting some of the happiness she deserved. I did fear though that she might be building on shifting sands with such a man.

I spent Christmas at Court. Edward was very conscious of his position. Naturally he would be. A great burden had been placed on his young shoulders. I hoped he would not be overwhelmed by all the adulation which came his way. He was beautiful, said the flatterers, witty and amiable; he was gentle and grave; he was already the father of his people, and if this was how he was at ten years old, how great and wise he would become with the passing of the years.

He was very gracious to me, telling me how tenderly he regarded me and that, although he called me sister, he thought of me as mother, so good had I been to him in his young years.

He was devoted to religion. I knew he always had been, but it was more apparent now. And, of course, that devotion was for the Reformed Church. I did not discuss religion with him because I felt it would be dangerous. Gentle as he was, he could be dogmatic, and when people felt as deeply as he did, intolerance was apt to creep in.

I was not sorry to leave Court. I was deeply aware of the new influences and felt it was no place for me. I went back to Hunsdon. I had my pleasant manors, my friends about me, my books, my music, and I was free to take long walks in the fresh air. I should be foolish to seek anything else at this stage.

It was during the next year that I heard of the scandal concerning my sister and Thomas Seymour. I must say it did not surprise me—knowing them both.

I was sorry for Katharine. It seemed she was doomed never to be happy. Her husbands had brought her little joy. Nurse to two of them, and with the third she had been subjected to great terror, and when she thought she had at last entered into a happy union, she found she had married a philanderer.

There were many who might have told her that this was what she would find in Thomas Seymour, but that the Princess Elizabeth should be the one involved with him was quite unexpected.

I knew there had always been an attraction between those two. My sister had been born with a shrewd nature or she might have accepted him in marriage. She would see, though, that that would have been the utmost folly. All the same, she had had a fancy for him.

Had Katharine not been aware of the flirtatious behavior between her husband and Elizabeth? Or had she shut her eyes to that which she did not want to see? Had she made the mistake of regarding Elizabeth as a child?

The story came out. There were always servants to tattle. What had they thought when the Admiral made a habit of teasing the girl, kissing her, even coming into her bedroom when she was in bed and tickling her? It was unseemly, even though sometimes the Queen had joined in the game.

There was a great deal of talk about that occasion when the Princess came into the garden wearing a black dress which Seymour said he did not like because not only was it unbecoming but it was too old for her. She should remember she was only fourteen…or was it fifteen? In any case he would not allow her to wear such a gown. Of course, it was all supposed to be fun—another of those games which the Admiral and the Princess so enjoyed and in which the Queen often joined. But the Admiral had taken a knife and slit up the skirt so that the Princess's petticoats were visible; the game had grown wilder until the gown was slit in many places and the Princess was there in the garden in her petticoats.

“My Lord Admiral,” she had cried, “you have ruined my dress. You must buy me another.” And he had replied, “Most willingly.”

It was clear that the Lady Elizabeth and the Admiral had greatly enjoyed the romp.

Jane Grey was with them, for on the King's death she had joined Katharine's household. Katharine was delighted to have her; she would be easier to understand than Elizabeth; she was such a docile, gentle creature, and Elizabeth was so unpredictable. I often wondered what Jane thought of all the rompings in that household.