CHAPTER I
THE BABY PRINCESS
Two ladies of the train of the Princess Elizabeth were talking softlytogether in an upper room of Hunsdon House.
"Never has such a thing happened in England before," said the first.
"True," whispered the second, "and to think of a swordsman being sentfor across the water to Calais! That never happened before."
"Surely no good can come to the land when the head of her who hasworn the English crown rolls in the dust at the stroke of a Frenchexecutioner," murmured the first lady, looking half fearfully over hershoulder.
"But if a queen is false to the king, if she plots against the peaceof the throne, even against the king's very life, why should she notmeet the same punishment that the wife of a tradesman would suffer ifshe strove to bring death to her husband? The court declared that QueenAnne was guilty."
"Yes, the court, the court," retorted the first, "and what a court!If King Henry should say, 'Cranmer, cut off your father's head,' and'Cromwell, cut off your mother's head,' they would bow humbly beforehim and answer, 'Yes, sire,' provided only that they could have wealthin one hand and power in the other. A court, yes!"
"Oh, well, I'm to be in the train of the Princess Elizabeth, and I'mnot the one to sit on the judges' bench and say whether the death thather mother died yesterday was just or unjust," said the second ladywith a little yawn. "But bend your head a bit nearer," she went on,"and I'll tell you what the lord mayor of London whispered to a kinsmanof my own. He said there was neither word nor sign of proof against herthat was the queen, and that he who had but one eye could have seenthat King Henry wished to get rid of her. But isn't that your brothercoming up the way?"
"Yes, it is Ralph. He is much in the king's favor of late because hecan play the lute so well and can troll a poem better than any otherman about the court. He will tell us of the day in London."
Ralph had already dismounted when his sister came to the hall, tooeager to welcome him to wait for any formal announcement of his arrival.
"Greeting, sister Clarice," said he as he kissed her cheek lightly."How peaceful it all is on this quiet hill with trees and flowersabout, and breezes that bring the echoes of bird-notes rather than thenoise and tumult of the city."
"But I am sure that I heard one sound of the city yesterday, Ralph. Itwas the firing of a cannon just at twelve. Was not that the hour whenthe stroke of the French ruffian beheaded the queen? Were there nomurderers in England that one must needs be sent for across the water?"
"I had hardly thought you could hear the sound so far," said herbrother, "but it was as you say. The cannon was the signal that thedeed was done."
"And where was King Henry? Was he within the Tower? Did he look on tomake sure that the swordsman had done his work?"
"Not he. No fear has King Henry that his servants will not obey him.He was in Epping Forest on a hunt. I never saw him more full of jest,and the higher the sun rose, the merrier he became. We went out earlyin the morning, and the king bade us stop under an oak tree to picnic.The wine was poured out, and we stood with our cups raised to drink hishealth. It was an uproarious time, for while the foes of the Boleynsrejoiced, their friends dared not be otherwise than wildly merry, lestthe wrath of the king be visited upon them. He has the eye of an eagleto pierce the heart of him who thinks the royal way is not the way ofright."
"The wine would have choked me," said Clarice, "but go on, Ralph. Whatnext?"
"One of the party slipped on the root of the oak, and his glass fellon a rock at his feet. The jesting stopped for an instant, and just atthat moment came the boom of a cannon from the Tower. King Henry hadforbidden the hour of the execution to be told, but every one guessedthat the cannon was the signal that the head of Queen Anne had beenstruck off by the foreign swordsman. The king turned white and thenred. I was nearest him, and I saw him tremble. I followed his eye, andhe looked over the shoulder of the master of the hunt far away to theeastward. There was London, and up the spire of St. Paul's a flag wasslowly rising. It looked very small from that distance, but it wasanother signal that the stroke of the executioner had been a true one."
"It is an awful thing to take the life of one who has worn the crown,"murmured Clarice. "Did the king speak?"
"He half opened his lips and again closed them. Then he gave a laughthat made me shiver, and he said, 'One would think that the royalpantry could afford no extra glass. That business is finished. Unloosethe dogs, and let us follow the boar.' Greeting, Lady Margaret," saidRalph to a lady who just then entered the room. He bowed before herwith deep respect, and said in a low, earnest tone:--
"May you find comfort and courage in every trouble that comes to you."
Lady Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she said:--
"I thank you. Trouble has, indeed, come to me in these last few years.Where was the king yesterday--at the hour of noon, I mean? Had he theheart to stay in London?"
"He had the heart to go on a hunt, but it was a short one, and almostas soon as the cannon was fired, he set off on the hardest gallop thatever took man over the road from Epping Forest to Wiltshire."
"To the home of Sir John Seymour?"
"The same. Know you not that this morning before the bells rang fornoon Jane Seymour had taken the place of Anne Boleyn and become thewife of King Henry?"
"No, I knew it not," answered Lady Margaret, "but what matters a daysooner or later when a man goes from the murder of one wife to thewedding of another?"
"True," said Ralph. Clarice was sobbing softly, and Lady Margaret wenton, half to Ralph and half to herself:--
"It was just two years ago yesterday when Lady Anne set out for Londonto be crowned. I never saw the Thames so brilliant. Every boat wasdecked with flags and streamers, edged with tiny bells that swung andtinkled in the breeze. The boats were so close together that it washard to clear a way for the lord mayor's barge. All the greatest men ofLondon were with him. They wore scarlet gowns and heavy golden chains.On one side of the lord mayor was a boat full of young men who hadsworn to defend Queen Anne to the death. Just ahead was a barge loadedwith cannon, and their mouths pointed in every direction that the windblows. There was a great dragon, too, so cunningly devised that itwould twist and turn one way and then another, and wherever it turned,it spit red fire and green and blue into the river. There was anotherboat full of the fairest maidens in London town, and they all sangsongs in praise of the Queen."
"They say that Queen Anne, too, could make songs," said Ralph, "andthat she made one in prison that begins:--
'Oh, Death, rock me asleep. Bring on my quiet rest.'"
"When Anne Boleyn went to France with the sister of King Henry, she wasa merry, innocent child. At his door lies the sin of whatever of wrongshe has done," said Lady Margaret solemnly, half turning away fromClarice and her brother and looking absently out of the open window.The lawn lay before her, fresh and green. Here and there were daisies,gleaming in the May sunshine. "I know the very place," said she witha shudder. "It is the green within the Tower. The grass is fresh andbright there, too, but the daisies will be red to-day with the blood ofour own crowned queen. It is terrible to think of the daisies."
"Pretty daisies," said a clear, childish voice under the window.
"Let us go out on the lawn," said Clarice, "it stifles me here."
"Remember," bade Lady Margaret hastily, "to say 'Lady,' not 'Princess.'"
The young man fell upon one knee before a tiny maiden, not yet threeyears old. The child gravely extended her hand for him to kiss. Hekissed it and said:--
"Good morrow, my Lady Elizabeth."
"Princess 'Lizbeth," corrected the mite.
"No," said Lady Margaret, "not 'Princess' but 'Lady.'"
"Princess 'Lizbeth," insisted the child with a stamp of her baby footon the soft turf and a positive little shake of her red gold curls."Princess brought you some daisies," and with a winning smile she heldout the handful of flowers to Lady Margaret and put up her face to bekissed.<
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"I'll give you one," said the child to the young man, and again sheextended her hand to him.
"Princess 'Lizbeth wants to go to hear the birds sing. Take me," shebade the attendant. She made the quaintest little courtesy that can beimagined, and left the three standing under the great beech tree.
"That is our Lady Elizabeth," said Lady Margaret, "the most wilful,winsome little lassie in all the world."
"But why may she not be called 'Princess' as has been the custom?"asked Ralph.
"It is but three days, indeed, since the king's order was given,"answered Lady Margaret. "When Archbishop Cranmer decided that AnneBoleyn was not the lawful wife of Henry, the king declared thatPrincess Elizabeth should no longer be the heir to the throne, and soshould be called 'Lady' instead of 'Princess.' It is many months sincehe has done aught for her save to provide for her safe keeping here atHunsdon. The child lacks many things that every child of quality shouldhave, let alone that she be the daughter of a king. I dare not tell theking her needs, lest he be angry, and both the little one and myselffeel his wrath."
The little daughter of the king seems to have been entirely neglected,and at last Lady Margaret ventured to write, not to the king, but toChancellor Cromwell, to lay before him her difficulties. Here is partof her letter:--
"Now it is so, my Lady Elizabeth is put from that degree she was afore,and what degree she is at now, I know not but by hearsay. ThereforeI know not how to order her myself, nor none of hers that I have therule of, that is, her women and grooms, beseeching you to be good Lordto my good Lady and to all hers, and that she may have some raiment."The letter goes on to say that she has neither gown, nor slip, norpetticoat, nor kerchiefs, nor neckerchiefs, nor nightcaps, "nor nomanner of linen," and ends, "All these her Grace must have. I havedriven off as long as I can, that by my troth I can drive it off nolonger. Beseeching ye, mine own good Lord, that ye will see that herGrace may have that which is needful for her, as my trust is that yewill do."
The little princess had a good friend in Lady Margaret Bryan, the "ladymistress" whom Queen Anne had put over her when, as the custom was, theroyal baby was taken from her mother to dwell in another house with herown retinue of attendants and ladies in waiting. In this same letterthe kind lady mistress ventured to praise the neglected child. Shewrote of her:--
"She is as toward a child and as gentle of condition as ever I knewany in my life. I trust the king's Grace shall have great comfort inher Grace." Lady Margaret told the chancellor that the little one washaving "great pain with her great teeth." Probably the last thing thatKing Henry thought of was showing his daughter to the public or makingher prominent in any way, but the lady mistress sturdily suggested thatif he should wish it, the Lady Elizabeth would be so taught that shewould be an honor to the king, but she must not be kept too long beforethe public, she must have her freedom again in a day or two.
A small difficulty arose in the house itself. The steward of the castlewished the child to dine at the state table instead of at her own moresimple board.
"It is only fitting," said he, "for her to dine at the great table,since she is at the head of the house."
"Master Steward," declared Lady Margaret, "at the state table therewould be various meats and fruits and wines that would not be for hergood. It would be a hard matter for me to keep them from her when shesaw them at every meal."
"Teach her that she may not have all that she sees," said the steward.
"The table of state is no place for the correcting of children,"retorted Lady Margaret, and she wrote to the chancellor about thismatter also. "I know well," said she, "if she [Elizabeth] be at thetable of state, I shall never bring her up to the king's Grace's honornor hers, nor to her health. Wherefore I beseech you, my Lord, that myLady may have a mess of meat to her own lodging, with a good dish ortwo that is meet for her Grace to eat of."
Besides the Lady Elizabeth and her household, the lady mistress, thesteward, the ladies of her train, and the servants, there was oneother dweller in this royal nursery, and that was the Lady Mary, ahalf-sister of the little Elizabeth. Mary's mother had been treatedvery cruelly and unfairly by King Henry, and had finally been put awayfrom him that he might marry Anne Boleyn.
As a child Mary was shown more honor than had ever been given to anEnglish princess before. The palace provided for her residence wascarried on at an enormous expense. She had her own ladies in waiting,her chamberlain, treasurer, and chaplain, as if she were already queen.Even greater than this was her glory when on one occasion her fatherand mother were absent in France, for she was taken to her father'spalace, and there the royal baby of but three or four years representedall the majesty of the throne. The king's councilors reported to himthat when some gentlemen of note went to pay their respects at theEnglish court, they found this little child in the presence chamberwith her guards and attendants, and many noble ladies most handsomelyapparelled. The councilors said that she welcomed her guests andentertained them with all propriety, and that finally she condescendedto play for them on the virginals, an instrument with keys like thoseof a piano. If half this story is true, it is no wonder that thedelighted courtiers told the king they "greatly marvelled and rejoiced."
The following Christmas she spent with her father and mother. Shehad most valuable presents of all sorts of articles made of gold andsilver; cups, saltcellars, flagons, and--strangest of all gifts fora little child--a pair of silver snuffers. One part of the Christmascelebration must have pleased her, and that was the acting of severalplays by a company of children who had been carefully trained toentertain the little princess.
When Mary was but six years old, it was arranged that she should marrythe German emperor, Charles V. He came to England for the betrothal,and remained several weeks. Charles ruled over more territory than anyother sovereign of the times, and he was a young man of great talentand ability. The child must be educated to become an empress. Being aprincess was no longer all play. A learned Spaniard wrote a profoundtreatise on the proper method of training the little girl. He wouldallow her to read the writings of some of the Latin poets and oratorsand philosophers, and she might read history, but no romances. A Latingrammar was written expressly for her, and she must also study Frenchand music. There seems to have been little thought of her recreationsave that it was decreed that she might "use moderate exercise atseasons convenient."
So it was that the pretty, merry little maiden was trained to becomean empress. When she was ten years old, she sent Charles an emeraldring, asking him whether his love was still true to her. He returned atender message that he would wear the ring for her sake; and yet, thelittle girl to whom he had been betrothed never became the bride of theemperor.
Charles heard that King Henry meant to put away his wife, and if thatwas done, it was probable that Mary would no longer be "Princess ofWales," and would never inherit her father's kingdom. The emperor wasangry, and the little girl in the great, luxurious palace was hurt andgrieved.
This was the beginning of the hard life that lay before her. King Henrywas determined to be free from his wife that he might make Anne Boleynhis queen. Mary loved her mother with all her heart, but the kingrefused to allow them to see each other. The mother wrote most tenderlyto her child, bidding her be cheerful and obey the king in everythingthat was not wrong. Mary's seventeenth birthday came and went. Theking had accomplished his wish to put away his wife, and had made AnneBoleyn his queen. One September day their child Elizabeth was born. Sofar Mary had lived in the greatest state, surrounded by attendants whodelighted in showing deference to her wishes, and her only unhappinesshad been caused by the separation from her mother and sympathy with hermother's sufferings. One morning the chamberlain, John Hussey, came toher with downcast eyes.
"Your Grace," said he, "it is but an hour ago that a message came fromhis Majesty, the king, and----" His voice trembled, and he could say nomore.
"Speak on, my good friend," said Mary. "I can, indeed, hardly expectwords of cheer from the court
that is ruled by her who was once mymother's maid of honor, but tell me to what purport is the message?"
"No choice have I but to speak boldly and far more harshly than is mywish," replied the chamberlain, "and I crave your pardon for sayingwhat I would so gladly leave unsaid. I would that the king had namedsome other agent."
"But what is the message, my good chamberlain? Must I command it to betold to me? My mother's daughter knows no fear. I am strong to meetwhatever is to come."
"The king commands through his council," said the chamberlain in achoking voice, "that your Grace shall no longer bear the title of'Princess,' for that belongs henceforth to the child of himself andQueen Anne. He bids that you shall order your servants to address youas 'Lady Mary,' and that you shall remove at once to Hunsdon, thepalace of the Princess Elizabeth, for she it is who is to be his heirand is to inherit the kingdom."
"I thank you," said Mary calmly, "for the courtesy with which you havedelivered the message; but I am the daughter of the king, and withouthis own letter I refuse to believe that he would be minded to diminishthe state and rank of his eldest child."
A few days later there came a letter from an officer of the king'shousehold bidding her remove to the palace of the child Elizabeth.
"I will not accept the letter as the word of my father," declared Mary."It names me as 'Lady Mary' and not as 'Princess';" and she straightwaywrote, not to the council, but directly to the king:--
"I will obey you as I ought, and go wherever you bid me, but I cannotbelieve that your Grace knew of this letter, since therein I amaddressed as 'Lady Mary.' To accept this title would be to declare thatI am not your eldest child, and this my conscience will not permit."She signs herself, "Your most humble daughter, Mary, Princess."
King Henry was angry, and when Queen Anne came to him in tears and toldhim a fortune-teller had predicted that Mary should rule after herfather, he declared that he would execute her rather than allow sucha thing to happen. Parliament did just what he commanded, and now hebade that an act be passed settling the crown upon the child of QueenAnne. Mary's luxurious household of more than eightscore attendants wasbroken up, and she herself was sent to Hunsdon. Many of her attendantsaccompanied her, but they were bidden to look no longer upon her astheir supreme mistress. They were to treat the child Elizabeth asPrincess of Wales and heir to the throne of England.