Part II
On the evening of 6 July, Mary Tudor reached Hoddesdon, where a sympathiser intercepted her on the road and warned her that the summons to Greenwich was a trap; she should stay away from the court and ride north without delay to one of her East Anglian strongholds, where she would be surrounded by men of her affinity and the tenantry of the Howards, England's premier Catholic peers.
Mary did not hesitate. It appears that she scribbled a hasty note to Scheyfve, informing him of her intention to proclaim herself queen as soon as she heard that the King was dead, and another to Northumberland informing him that she was ill and unable to travel, before riding through the night for her castle at Kenninghall in Norfolk, accompanied by only two of her ladies and six gentlemen of her household. If her bid for the crown failed, then at least Kenninghall was well placed for her to make her escape to Flanders by sea.
Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, a court official based at Greenwich, afterwards claimed that it was he who sent the warning, although it couldjust as well have been William Cecil, Throckmorton's colleague, or even Mary's goldsmith, Robert Raynes, acting on Throckmorton's behalf.
Back in London, Northumberland was taking stock of his position whilst keeping the King's death a secret. On the morning of the yth, just as the Imperial envoys were preparing to ask for an audience with Edward VI, they heard a rumour that he had died the previous evening. Such stories were common, however, and they took little notice of it. Later that day, Scheyfve's spies learned the truth, which Renard duly reported to his master. When, the next day, the ambassadors were informed that His Majesty 'was unable to grant us audience as his indisposition kept him most of the day in bed', they knew that a great deception was being maintained.
Northumberland was in control of the treasury, the navy, and the Tower, which housed an unequalled arsenal of weapons and the royal mint. He appeared to hold the Council in the palm of his hand, and had his garrisons in strongholds throughout the shires. He also enjoyed the reputation of being 'the best man of war' in the kingdom. He now gathered about him a large number of lords, had Windsor Castle stocked with arms and a great quantity of provisions and prepared for a siege, ordering that the guns of the Tower be placed at battle stations.
According to the chief source for this period, the anonymous contemporary Chronicle of Queen Jane and Two Years of Queen Mary, from which most of the unattributed quotations in the pages that follow have been taken, a fleet of seven great warships had been refitted and now waited off the eastern coast, in case Mary should try to flee the kingdom. Access to London was restricted and, as the palace guards were doubled, the French ambassador was reminded of the aid promised by his country.
When Northumberland was told that Mary had retreated to Norfolk, he sent his son, Lord Robert Dudley, after her with a troop of four hundred horse, but he failed to catch up with her. Nevertheless, no one believed that Mary stood any chance of prevailing: 'All the forces of the country are in the Duke's hands, and my lady has no hope of raising enough men to face him,' wrote Scheyfve gloomily, and Charles V, when he learned of her desperate gamble, wrote urgently to his ambassadors, advising them to beg the Duke to be merciful with her. Scheyfve had already sent Mary a letter, begging her to abandon her foolhardy plans and submit to Dudley.
Only Northumberland himself knew how precarious his own situation in reality was. He was aware that most of his colleagues were waiting to see what happened before committing themselves, and, knowing that he could count on the loyalty of no one save his own family, the Suffolks and the Parrs, he knew that the success of his plans depended upon speedy, decisive action. Mary must be caught, and soon, for at large she was a focus for opposition. Meanwhile, the King's death must be concealed for as long as possible.
There remained, however, the problem of what to do with the body. The Duke had hoped for a fortnight in which to gather his resources, but, since the weather was warm and the corpse already beginning to decay, this proved untenable. He could not leave the body in the King's bedchamber, yet nor could he risk an autopsy - which, in view of the current rumours, his colleagues might suggest -which might reveal the arsenic in Edward's body.
We do not know for certain what happened to Edward VI's corpse. A letter written a few days later by one of Northumberland's sons states that the Duke had not dared to let the late King lie in state but had 'buried him privately in a paddock adjoining the palace, and substituted in his place, to be seen by the people, a young man not very unlike him, whom they had murdered'. Was this the body delivered to the embalmers, the body that was shortly afterwards carried in a coffin to Westminster Abbey by twelve peers of the realm, who watched over it in turn 'without torches or tapers', as a French observer noted in shocked tones? If so, then it is an impostor who rests today in the altar tomb in the Henry VII Chapel, while the pathetic remains of the true Edward VI lie somewhere in Greenwich Park.
Northumberland managed to keep the King's death secret for nearly two days.Then, on 8 July, in order to quell the rumours that were circulating in the city, he summoned the Lord Mayor and aldermen of London to Greenwich and announced to them that Edward VI had died. He then swore them to secrecy and informed them that his late Maj esty had appointed the Lady Jane Grey as his successor by his Letters Patent. He confided that he had just learned that Mary had 'gone towards Norfolk and Suffolk, being the coast opposite Flanders, with intent to involve the kingdom in troubles and wars, and bring in foreigners to defend her pretensions to the crown'. Intimidated by the Duke, the city fathers promised to serve Jane as their lawful sovereign.
Later that day Northumberland placed the Tower under the control of Lord Clinton, and ordered that three important Catholic prisoners who had been incarcerated there for most of Edward's reign - the Duke of Norfolk, Bishop Gardiner and Edward Courtenay, a descendant of the Plantagenets - be told to prepare for immediate execution. Prominent Catholics such as these would not be given a chance to support Mary. The Duke then wrote to Elizabeth informing her of her brother's death.
Mary, meanwhile, had spent the night of 7 July at Sawston Hall near Cambridge, the manor house of John Huddlestone, a prominent Catholic gentleman, who welcomed her warmly and had mass celebrated in her presence. In the morning, after she left, word leaked out that she had stayed at the house, and some zealous Protestants from Cambridge set fire to it, thinking she was still inside. Riding over a hilltop, Mary could see the blaze; turning to a dismayed John Huddlestone, who had offered to escort her some of the way, she promised that when she was queen she would build him a better house on the site as compensation for his loss. She then rode on to Bury St Edmunds, where she was heartened by the warm reception extended to her by the inhabitants.
That night Mary slept at Euston Hall near Thetford, the home of her friend, Lady Burgh, a widow. While she was there Robert Raynes, 'her goldsmith, a citizen of London', arrived with news of King Edward's death. Raynes said he had been sent by Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, which made Mary very suspicious. Why should Throckmorton help her? Was the news true? Or was this another bait with which to trap her? It might be that Northumberland was provoking her to declare herself queen while her brother still lived, in which case she would be guilty of high treason. It would be better to keep the news to herself and continue on her way, hoping for confirmation from another source.
At Norwich, the people shut their gates against her, and she was warned that Lord Robert Dudley and his men were closing in on her. Disguising herself as a serving maid, she rode pillion behind a man left by John Huddlestone to guide her until she was well on the way to Kenninghall. Soon she was intercepted, not by Robert Dudley, but by a courier sent by Scheyfve, who confirmed the report of her brother's death and warned her that she could not hope to prevail against Northumberland; nor could she escape from England because the way was barred by the ships stationed off the eastern coast. The Duke had sent men after her, and it would be wiser to negotiate terms while there was still time. Mary answered that she would respond to Scheyfve's message when she had had time to think about it.
She arrived at Kenninghall on Sunday, 9 July, having been joined by about thirty loyal gentlemen on the way. During Henry VIII's reign, the Duke of Norfolk had built himself a magnificent brick manor house beyond the moat of the ancient castle. When the Duke was attainted in 1547, Kenninghall passed to the Crown, and presently to Mary. The spacious accommodation included a great chamber, hung with fourteen tapestries depicting the labours of Hercules, a long gallery boasting twenty-eight portraits of'divers noble persons', an armoury well-stocked with weapons, and a chapel made resplendent with six tapestries, each nine yards square, illustrating the story of Christ's passion.
No sooner had she arrived than Mary received news via Dr Thomas Hughes that confirmed the report from Scheyfve. Knowing that there was no longer any doubt that King Edward had died, Mary took counsel with her chief officers and then summoned every member of her household into the great chamber and proclaimed herself the rightful Queen of England 'by divine and human law'. Her servants responded with heartfelt cheers, but Mary knew that there were almost insurmountable obstacles to be overcome before she was queen in deed as well as tide. First of all, she must inform Northumberland of her intentions, and to this end she dispatched her man Thomas Hungate to the Council with a letter bearing the unmistakable tone of royal command:
My lords, we greet you well, and have received sure advertisement that our dearest brother the King is departed to God, which news, how they be woeful unto our heart, He wholly knoweth to whose will and pleasure we must and do humbly submit us and our will.
But in this lamentable case, that is to wit now after his death, concerning the crown and governance of this realm of England, what has been provided by Act of Parliament and the last will of our dear father, the realm and all the world knoweth, and we verily trust that there is no good true subject that can or will pretend to be ignorant thereof. And of our part, as God shall aid and strengthen us, we have ourselves caused, and shall cause, our right and tide in this behalf to be published and proclaimed accordingly.
And albeit this matter being so weighty, the manner seemeth strange that, our brother dying upon Thursday at night last past, we hitherto had no knowledge from you thereof. Yet we considered your wisdoms and prudence to be such that, having eftsoon amongst you debated, pondered and well-weighed this present case, we shall and may conceive great hope and trust and much assurance in your loyalty and service, and that you will, like noble men, work the best.
Nevertheless, we are not ignorant of your consultations and provisions forcible, there with you assembled and prepared, by whom, and to what end, God and you know, and Nature can but fear some evil. But be it that some consideration politic hath hastily moved you thereto, yet doubt you not, my lords, we take all these your doings in gracious part, being also right ready to remit and fully pardon the same freely, to eschew bloodshed and vengeance. Trusting also assuredly you will take and accept this grace and virtue in such good part as appeareth, and that we shall [not] be enforced to use the service of other our true subjects and friends, which in this, our just and rightful cause, God, in whom our whole affiance is, shall send us.
Wherefore, my lords, we require and charge you, for that allegiance which you owe to God and us, that, for your honour and the surety of your persons, you employ yourselves and forthwith, upon receipt hereof, cause our right and tide to the crown and government of this realm to be proclaimed in our city of London and such other places as to your wisdoms shall seem good, not failing hereof, as our very trust is in you. And this letter signed with our hand shall be your sufficient warrant. Given under our sign[et] at our manor of Kenninghall, the 9 July 1553, Mary.
Copies of this letter were sent to cities and towns throughout the kingdom, and to many men in public office.
Bearing in mind the Emperor's advice to dissemble, Mary then made it known that she would maintain the religion of England as established by her brother and make no drastic changes. This was a popular move and encouraged several local gentlemen with their tenantry to join her at Kenninghall. At the same time, Mary sent out letters to towns as far away as Chester and messengers throughout East Anglia 'to draw all the gentlemen of the surrounding countryside to do fealty to their sovereign', and was astounded at the speed with which they responded to her summons; it was almost as if they had been waiting for it. The first to arrive was Sir Henry Bedingfield of Oxburgh Hall in Norfolk, whose father had been Katherine of Aragon's gaoler in the 15305; then came the wealthy Sir Richard Southwell, who brought with him men, arms, money and provisions, and after him John Bourchier, Earl of Bath (whose kinswoman, Lady Bryan, had been Elizabeth's governess) and Henry Ratcliffe, Earl of Sussex, each with men of their affinity.
Meanwhile, at Paul's Cross in London on that Sunday, Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of London, acting on Northumberland's orders, preached a sermon in which he branded both Mary and Elizabeth as bastards, at which 'the people murmured sore' and shouted so loudly in derision that Ridley had difficulty in making himself heard. The Lady Mary, he cried, was a papist who would be swayed by foreign influence, but the crowd would not listen. Elsewhere, Bishop Latimer thundered from the pulpit that it would be better if both princesses were taken by God than that they should endanger the true religion by marrying foreign princes.
At this stage, the councillors appeared united behind Northumberland even if some of their number - among them Northampton, Arundel, Huntingdon and Pembroke - had qualms about the legality of his plans. Knowing that Mary was still very much at large, Northumberland stressed the urgency of having Jane proclaimed queen without further delay. Since the councillors 'were as afraid of Northumberland as mice of a cat', they concurred in this, having been suborned 'by terror and promises'.
On the afternoon of the 9th, the Duke sent his daughter Lady Mary Sidney to Chelsea where she informed Jane 'that I must go that same night to Syon House to receive that which had been ordered for me by the King'. Jane was still recovering from what she believed had been an attempt to poison her, and protested that she was too sick to travel.
'It is necessary for you to go with me,' answered Mary firmly and with 'extraordinary seriousness'. Jane allowed herself to be led to a waiting barge and taken by water to Syon House, Northumberland's mansion at Isleworth on the Thames, where her husband and parents were waiting for her with Northumberland and other members of the Council. However, none of these people were in evidence when the two girls arrived, and they were shown into the great hall of the former convent, now hung with rich tapestries, and asked to wait. Neither spoke.
What happened next is recorded in Jane's own account, preserved in the pages of Girolamo Pollini's history, and in the near-contemporary account of John Florio, the London-born Italian translator of Montaigne, and Rene Aubert de Vertot, a Frenchman. Presently Northumberland led the Council into the hall. For a short while those present stood around in small groups, exchanging pleasantries, but the atmosphere was tense. Jane was astonished when, before engaging her in conversation, Pembroke and Huntingdon knelt and kissed her hand: 'with unwonted caresses they did me such reverence as was not at all suitable to my state'. She realised 'they were making semblance of honouring me', but despite having been forewarned, she still had no idea of what Northumberland's purpose was in bringing her here, and when she overheard someone referring to her as 'their sovereign lady' she became confused and alarmed.
At length, Northumberland escorted Jane to the Chamber of State, followed by Mary Sidney and the councillors. Inside, she was confronted by her parents, her mother-in-law and Guilford, with other noble persons, all standing in order of precedence before the empty throne, which waited beneath a canopy of estate. Relentlessly, the Duke led Jane on towards the dais, but when she saw the whole company bow or curtsey as she passed, she began to shake with fright. 'As President of the Council,' Northumberland announced, 'I do now declare the death of his most blessed and gracious Majesty, King
Edward VI.' There was a pause for the news to sink in, while the Duke spoke in pious tones about how his late master would be sorely missed, not only by himself, but by the whole realm.
We have cause to rejoice for the virtuous and praiseworthy life that His Majesty hath led, as also for his very good death. Let us take comfort by praising his prudence and goodness, and for the very great care he hath taken of his kingdom at the close of his life, having prayed God to defend it from the popish faith and to deliver it from the rule of his evil sisters.
His Majesty hath weighed well an Act of Parliament wherein it was already resolved that whosoever should acknowledge the Lady Mary or the Lady Elizabeth and receive them as heirs of the crown should be had for traitors, one of them having formerly been disobedient to His Majesty's father, King Henry VIII, and also to himself concerning the true religion. Wherefore in no manner did His Grace wish that they should be his heirs, he being in every way able to disinherit them.
There was another pause, so that the assembled company should have time to digest the import of this pack of lies. At this point Lady Jane was observed to shudder. Then, to her horror, Northumberland turned to her.
'His Majesty hath named Your Grace as the heir to the crown of England,' he declared. 'Your sisters will succeed you in the case of your default of issue.'
The slight, fifteen-year-old girl at his side seemed dazed and uncomprehending. Later, she confessed to feeling 'stupefied and troubled'. Speech was beyond her. Taking her silence for assent, the Duke informed her that
this declaration hath been approved by all the lords of the Council, most of the peers, and all the judges of the land. There is nothing wanting but Your Grace's grateful acceptance of the high estate which God Almighty, the sovereign and disposer of all crowns and sceptres - never sufficiently to be thanked by you for so great a mercy - hath advanced you to. Therefore you should cheerfully take upon you the name, title and estate of Queen of England, receiving at our hands the first fruits of our humble duty — now tendered to you upon our knees — which shortly will be paid to you by the rest of the kingdom.
At his words, everyone in the room knelt in reverence, while Northumberland assured Jane that each one would shed their blood for her, 'exposing their own lives to death'. Jane, however, was hardly listening. She felt sick and faint with shock, and suddenly collapsed to the floor. Her loss of consciousness was brief, however, and as she came to, she realised that not one person had come to her assistance. This made her cry. It then struck her forcibly that what Northumberland was doing was wrong, very wrong, and she wanted no part in it. Her situation so appalled her that she made no attempt to get up but lay there on the floor, sobbing her heart out. She was alone, so alone, and no one would understand how she felt, or help her. These powerful men meant to use her for their own ends, and she was unable to stop them.
The watching lords and ladies waited politely for their new queen to compose herself, believing that she wept for the late King, since between sobs she had muttered something about 'so noble a prince'. After a while Jane calmed herself and rose to her feet, bracing herself to make a stand against what she knew to be tyranny.
'The crown is not my right,' she stated flatly, 'and pleaseth me not. The Lady Mary is the rightful heir.'
Northumberland flared, 'Your Grace doth wrong to yourself and to your house!' while Jane's parents reminded her of her duty to them, to her father-in-law, to the late King's will, and to her new subjects, ordering her, as an obedient daughter, to do as she was told. But Jane was immovable. Guilford then spoke, 'sparing her neither prayers nor caresses', but made no impression either. All she would agree to do was pray for guidance. She then fell to her knees, while the august company stood by, barely concealing their impatience. Jane begged God to tell her what she should do, but He did not give her any sign. She took this to mean that she should obey her parents, as the Scriptures enjoined, and accept the crown. Then, 'humbly praying and beseeching', but with grave misgivings, she said aloud, 'If what hath been given to me is lawfully mine, may Thy Divine Majesty grant me such spirit and grace that I may govern to Thy glory and service, and to the advantage of the realm.'
She then rose and seated herself on the throne. Northumberland, expansive with relief, came forward to kiss her hand, and everyone else followed suit, swearing allegiance 'even to the death'. Inwardly, though, Jane was convinced she had done the wrong thing: 'It did not become me to accept; [it resulted from] a want of prudence.'
That evening, the Council informed the new queen of the arrangements for her state entry into London on the following day. She was to lodge in the Tower prior to her coronation, and there she would find the royal apartments ready for her. Instead of travelling in procession through the streets, as was customary, she would go by water in the royal barge, preceded by a flotilla of other barges bearing the councillors and the chief officers of her household.
At seven o'clock on the morning of 10 July, after Northumberland had ordered a strong military presence into the city, Jane was proclaimed queen in Cheapside and other places in London by the royal heralds. The citizens received the news stony-faced, no one cheered, and only a few voices cried, 'God save her!' To break the embarrassing silence, the trumpeters blew resounding fanfares but failed to arouse any enthusiasm. One Gilbert Potter, who worked as a tapster in an inn, openly stated that the Lady Mary should be queen. His master, the innkeeper, denounced him to the authorities, and he had his ears cut off the next day, but when the innkeeper drowned whilst shooting the piers of London Bridge that very evening, people called it a just punishment on him, and said it indicated that God wanted Mary to be queen. However, most people realised that there was little hope of that happening, and when Jane was again proclaimed at mid-day, at the Tower, St Paul's and Westminster, and again in Cheapside at seven o'clock in the evening, they made no protest.
In the glorious, sunny afternoon, Jane arrived at the Tower, where she was greeted by a resounding salute from the guns along Tower Wharf. With Guilford, dazzlingly robed in white, gold and silver, at her side, paying her 'much attention' and bowing low to her each time she addressed him, she landed at the court gate, followed by her mother, who was acting as her train-bearer, and surrounded by six noblemen :arrying a canopy of estate above her head. Wearing a green damask kirtle, a bodice in the Tudor colours of green and white, heavily smbroidered with gold thread, a gem-encrusted French hood, and :hree-inch high chopines - wooden platform shoes - to increase her tieight and thus enable the people to see her, Jane walked in stately Drocession through the crowded Tower precincts to the main entrance :o the royal apartments, where the Marquess of Winchester waited with the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir John Bridges, and a detachment af the Yeomen of the Guard to receive her. Winchester, on his knees, Dffered Jane the great keys of the Tower, but it was Northumberland ^vho took them, himself passing them over to Jane. Then the procession passed into the White Tower where Suffolk, the councilors, and a great number of peers, including Lord Herbert and his wife, ^adyKatherine Grey, the Queen's sister, were waiting to receive Jane. When she had seated herself on the throne in the presence chamber, Northumberland and Suffolk fell on their knees to bid her officially welcome. The court then proceeded to divine service in the Norman chapel of St John high up in the keep.
Back in the presence chamber, Jane seated herself again beneath the canopy of estate, flanked by Guilford, her nurse Mrs Ellen, her gentlewoman Mrs Tilney, and other attendants. The crown jewels were brought to her, having been conveyed from the Jewel Tower at Westminster by the Marquess ofWinchester, the Lord High Treasurer; however, when Winchester offered to place the crown on her head, Jane remembered that 'the crown had never been demanded by me or by anyone in my name', and angrily rebuked him, refusing to wear it. He excused himself, saying he had only wished 'to try whether it became me or no. The which, with many excuses, I refused to do.'
'Your Grace may take it without fear,' replied Winchester smoothly, and at length Jane allowed him to place the diadem on her head to see how it fitted. The very act of wearing the crown made her feel faint again, and she paid little attention when Winchester said that another crown would be made to fit Guilford. She did not answer, but later became very thoughtful, for she had registered his words 'truly with a troubled mind, and with ill-will, even with infinite grief and displeasure of heart'.
That evening, there was a great banquet in the Tower, but during the feast Thomas Hungate arrived with Mary's letter, which was read aloud to the assembled company. There followed a stunned silence, which was broken by the lamentations of the duchesses of Suffolk and Northumberland. The Queen said nothing. The Duke of Northumberland was furious to learn that Mary had evaded capture, and haughtily scornful of her orders. Both he and the other councillors assured Queen Jane and each other that Mary - a woman alone, with no friends and no influence - posed no serious threat to their plans. Yet for all their bravado, the banquet had been ruined. The unfortunate Hungate was thrown into a dungeon, and the councillors speedily withdrew in order to draw up a document repudiating Mary's claims, to which twenty-three of them appended their signatures.
Later on, when Jane and Guilford were alone in the state bedchamber, Jane informed him that he would never be king consort. The crown was hers alone, and she had no right to make him king. Instead, she would create him a duke. Guilford, who had happily anticipated the pleasures of kingship, flew into a temper at this, and raged at his wife, 'I will be made king by you, and by Act of Parliament!' When Jane made it plain she had no intention of changing her mind, he tried different tactics, bursting into tears and running off to find his mother. The Duchess of Northumberland soon sailed into the room in a fine temper, demanding that her daughter-in-law accede to Guilford's very reasonable request, but Jane was impervious to threats or tears. She would make her husband a duke, she repeated, but she could not make him king unless Parliament asked her to.
'I will not be a duke, I will be king!' wailed Guilford, at which his mother ordered him to abstain from the bed of such an undutiful wife; he should return to Syon House with her. She then swept out of the room, her son in tow, and ordered her servants to prepare to leave the Tower that night. Jane, however, forestalled her, sending Arundel and Pembroke to prevent Guilford from departing.
'I have no need of my husband in bed,' she declared crushingly, 'but by day his place is at my side.' Guilford had no choice but to obey, but he continued to sulk, even in public. Jane, too, felt badly done by, for she had been 'deceived by the Duke and the Council, and ill-treated by my husband and his mother'.
Meanwhile, London was quiet; there was no rejoicing, as was usual upon the accession of a new monarch. Not a single bonfire was lit in the streets, and one German eyewitness reported that 'the people showed nothing but grief.
That evening Northumberland sent a messenger to Scheyfve and Renard, formally announcing to them the King's death and Queen Jane's accession. That he did not inform them personally was taken by them as a marked slight, especially since de Noailles, the French envoy, was riding high in favour with Northumberland. On that day, Mary had written from Kenninghall to the Imperial ambassadors to say that she had decided not to take their advice but instead advance her claim to the throne. Enclosed with her letter was a copy of the text of her proclamation speech. When Scheyfve and Renard received this missive they were horrified at what they regarded as an impulsive and ill-judged action on Mary's part; in their opinion she could not hope to succeed. They could not reply to her letter as all the roads were blocked, and so they wrote to the Emperor, begging to be recalled without delay, since they were under such a cloud of suspicion that they could do nothing further on Mary's behalf. Charles V refused their request, and commanded them to do everything in their power to urge Mary to acknowledge Jane as queen, since what she had embarked upon was a suicidal course. Unable to communicate with the princess, the ambassadors could only request the Council to be lenient with her when she was inevitably apprehended.
During the first three days of her reign Queen Jane settled quickly into a routine. In the mornings the Council met in the White Tower, but she did not attend; instead, Guilford presided over the meetings, seated at the head of the table. It was Northumberland, however, who made all the decisions.
At noon, dinner — the main meal of the day — was served with great formality, and lasted for two hours. Jane sat beneath a canopy of estate between her mother and mother-in-law, with Guilford and the lords of the Council further along the table. During the afternoon, Suffolk and Winchester would inform Jane of decisions made in her name and give her documents to approve, to which she appended her signature 'Jane the Queen'. Throughout the day she remained mainly in her private apartments, often in fear that Northumberland was plotting to have her poisoned, for she was aware that she had displeased him by her unwillingness to accept the crown. She had heard the rumours that accused him of bringing about the late King's death by poisoning; now she attributed the falling out of 'all my hair' and the peeling of her skin - conditions probably brought about by stress - to the same thing. She had only limited power as sovereign; all she had done had been to promise that she would be 'most benign and gracious to all her people, and to maintain God's holy word and the laws of the land'. In every other respect she was Northumberland's puppet, at his mercy.
Jane was aware that Northumberland was hated by the people, but did not know that he had already alienated several councillors. Arundel was bent on revenge because the Duke had had him imprisoned after Somerset's fall; he also believed that Northumberland's arrogance would be infinitely greater as father-in-law to the Queen than it had been when he was merely Lord President of the Council. Huntingdon was resentful of the elevation of Suffolk, and - like some other lords -suspicious of the plan to make Guilford king. Winchester had opposed Edward VI's Devise and had only signed it in the interests of self-preservation. And Pembroke had forbidden his son to consummate his marriage to Lady Katherine Grey until Jane had been crowned; if Northumberland's coup failed, the marriage could easily be annulled.