Chapter 25
January was barely a week old when Will reported that the Queen had signed her marriage treaty.
Two weeks later, he wrote that there had been a rising in protest against it in Devon, speedily suppressed by government troops.
Friends on the Council had told him in confidence that they had proof that a conspiracy was afoot and that there might be risings in other parts of the realm.
All leave was canceled. He did not know when he would be able to visit Greys Court again.
After this news, Kate was almost distraught to receive a letter from Francis saying that he was staying on in Geneva to help make everything ready for the English exiles.
He did not know when he would be home. “At the slightest hint of trouble, write to me,” he had exhorted her.
“If you feel you are in danger, come to me with the children. In the meantime, I thank you from my heart for continuing to look to my interests in Oxfordshire.” Kate was glad of the responsibility and the myriad tasks that kept her busy.
They took her mind off their separation.
Bilkins, impressed, told her that she was now quite capable of running her lord’s estates unaided.
But Thomasina was worrying about her doing too much.
“I don’t mind being busy,” Kate said. “I just want life to revert to normal and to be free of all my cares.”
“You’ve got to look after yourself, Mistress,” Thomasina urged.
“I will,” Kate promised, and hastened away to the still room, where she was going to teach Mary and Lettice how to make marmalade.
By late January, Kate had learned of a serious threat from Kent, where Sir Thomas Wyatt had raised his standard at Maidstone and issued a proclamation protesting against the Spanish marriage.
His army, Will wrote, was five thousand strong and he was riding for London unopposed because the authorities had been unable to muster any support in the region.
“God be praised that you are all in Oxfordshire,” he added.
“There is enough cause for panic here at Whitehall. But the Queen is steadfast. I will write as often as I can. Do not be afraid. You are not in danger.”
He was true to his word. By and by, Kate learned of the terror in London as the citizens braced themselves for the rebels’ onslaught.
She feared for Will. As a member of the sovereign’s personal guard, he would be in the front line if Whitehall Palace came under attack.
She could not bear to think about it, could not sleep for worrying.
At least Francis was safely abroad. It was the first time she had felt glad that he was out of England.
She wrote to Elizabeth at Ashridge but received no reply.
Then Will informed her that the Queen had had her sister’s portrait taken down from her gallery.
It seemed that she was suspected of being involved in the conspiracy.
She had gone to Donnington in Berkshire and was pleading sickness as an excuse for not obeying Mary’s summons to court.
Wyatt had been proclaimed a traitor for having raised evil-disposed persons to compass the Queen’s destruction and restore Lady Jane Grey to the throne. Privately, Kate wished him success; it would be the best outcome for the Protestants. Yet she did not wish any ill to Mary.
Will wrote that the octogenarian Duke of Norfolk had marched an army into Kent to deal with Wyatt and his rebels.
But hundreds of his men had deserted to the enemy and the rest had fled.
Will had seen Norfolk’s remaining troops staggering wearily back into London, a sight he had found most demoralizing.
“I must warn you, Kate, that the kingdom is facing a very serious crisis, because nothing now stands between Wyatt and London.” His words made Kate fearful for Will.
Dashing off a reply, she begged him to keep safe.
When he wrote that the councillors were urging the Queen to leave London for the safety of Windsor, but that she had refused, Kate could have screamed with frustration.
Go! Go! she wanted to say. It was clear that panic was mounting in London.
“Apparently, we Gentlemen Pensioners and the Yeomen of the Guard are not enough for her Majesty,” Will grumbled.
“She has complained to the Council that they have failed to provide her with a bodyguard. In fact, they’ve been hard at work recruiting men, although many are untrained and useless.
Some lords want the Queen to ask the Emperor for military aid, but she will not have him thinking she is unable to deal with the situation lest he doubts the wisdom of sending his son here.
You can imagine the reaction if an Imperial army arrived on England’s shores.
It would confirm the people’s worst suspicions.
Therefore, she has ordered that London be fortified, and is resolved to remain at Whitehall.
She believes she can count on the citizens’ loyalty.
” Kate wondered if she was being overoptimistic.
Since her accession, the Queen had lost a lot of her popularity.
She could settle to nothing. Every day, she kept interrupting her tasks to look out for Will’s messenger, and snapped at the children because she had a bad headache from tension.
But there was no news. The lack of it was driving her to distraction.
What was happening in London? Why didn’t Will write?
Dear God, was it because he couldn’t write?
Her mind took a dive into Hell. She loved this dear, kind man like a father.
It was a week before she heard from him, and the relief was profound.
“Wyatt is taken,” he had written. “He was halted at Southwark because the citizens had destroyed London Bridge to prevent him from crossing the Thames. In the City, there was much noise and tumult as the people donned armor, shut shops, and kept guard over their doors. The Queen went to the Guildhall and gave a stirring speech, which turned the hearts of many. Here at Whitehall, we also put on our armor and took up our places in the Queen’s presence chamber, weapons at the ready.
The palace was packed and her ladies were weeping and wailing.
She remained calm and urged us all to place our trust in God. ”
Kate devoured the rest avidly, reading about Wyatt crossing the Thames at Kingston and marching on Tyburn, outside the city walls.
She could envisage the pandemonium at court that Will described so vividly, and had to admire the courage of the Queen in staying at Whitehall.
The rebel march had continued unchecked until it was confronted at St. James’s Park by a force of cavalry led by the Earl of Pembroke.
After a brief skirmish in which many of his troops deserted, Wyatt had led a small band of his men away to Charing Cross, where there was another scuffle.
Will had heard the gunfire at Whitehall.
Finding Ludgate closed to him, Wyatt had turned to retreat, but his way was barred by Pembroke’s company.
He had too few supporters to resist such a large force, so had given himself up.
“The rebellion has collapsed and he is in the Tower,” Will concluded.
“The Queen says that God has worked another miracle.”
It felt like that to Kate, even though a part of her had wanted the rising to succeed. She was utterly thankful that Will was unscathed.
He came to see her three weeks later, in a somber mood. “Lady Jane Grey and her husband have been executed,” he told her, sinking into his fireside seat.
“But the Queen was going to show mercy!” she cried, appalled.
“Indeed, she was. But her councillors and the Spanish ambassador were all thoroughly frightened by the rebellion and told her that she must harden her heart and show her subjects that she is not to be intimidated. Now she wants the law to strike terror into all who venture to do evil. The worst of it is that she has said she will not tolerate heresy in her realm, since it can only lead to seditious plots against her. The Spanish ambassador is urging her to proceed firmly against all heretics.”
Kate had to sit down. “Should we leave England?” she asked tremulously.
“Not yet. But we must be vigilant and ready to go at any time. I have already made plans for Dot and I to leave, should the need arise, but I am probably being overcautious. The government has other things to think about than persecuting Protestants.” He sighed.
Kate sat there, stunned. What would she do if Will left England? In Francis’s absence, he was her rock. She would be bereft. And she would be cut off from the court and all that was happening there. She feared being so alone and isolated.
“These are dangerous times,” Will was saying.
“The leaders of the revolt are to be executed as an example to other would-be rebels. The Duke of Suffolk is set to go to the block for rising in favor of his daughter Jane, and great pressure was put on the Queen to rid herself of Jane, as she would have remained a focus for rebellion. I’m told it was intimated to her that Prince Philip would not come to England while Jane lived. She reluctantly capitulated.”
“That poor girl,” Kate mourned. “She could not have been more than seventeen, and her husband was not much older. How dreadful to die at such a young age.” She could well imagine their terror at facing the block. It brought back horrible memories.
Will drew her into his arms. “They say she died bravely, strong in her faith.”
“That is small consolation,” Kate said, as a tear trickled down her cheek.
“I know,” he murmured, gentling her like a child. “The new religion has lost one of its best advocates.”
“But there remains the Lady Elizabeth,” she said, breaking away. “Is there any word of her? She has not replied to my letters.”