“His Majesty is failing fast,” he said.

Royalty cannot die in peace. Death is like birth. The important men of the day must be sent for to see it happen.

So they were coming to see the King die. Members of the Council. I recognized the Seymours…Lord Lisle, Wriothesley, Sir Anthony Denny. The Queen was not present.

My father half rose in his bed and with a cry fell back on the pillows.

“What news?” he growled. “Why do you stand there? What do you say? My legs are on fire. What do you? Will you let me burn?” Then he said a strange thing. “Monks…who are these monks? They cry to me. Why do they cry? They look at me with their wild eyes. I like not those black-cowled monks. What news, eh? What news, Denny?”

Denny came to the bedside. He said, “Your Majesty, there is nothing more that can be done. Your doctors can do no more. You should prepare to meet God. You should review your past life and seek God's mercy through Christ.”

There was a look of disbelief on his face. Death…so close. All his life he had refused to think of death; he had hated sickness; he always wanted to shut himself away from it; now here he was, face to face with death and there was no running away this time.

“Review your past life!” Did I detect a note of triumph in the words? “You, who have had great power, of whom we all went in fear and trembling, must now face One greater, more powerful than yourself. How does it feel, Sir King?”

Oh no! Denny's face was a mask of sympathy. But the King had made them all tremble for their lives at times.

They told him he must see his divines, but he started up and said he would see no one but Cranmer.

Cranmer was at Croydon, and they sent for him to come right away. We wondered whether he would arrive in time, for the King was in delirium. He seemed not to know where he was and why so many people had crowded into his bedchamber. It was uncanny. He was seeing ghosts, and through his eyes one saw those figures from the past who were there to watch him as he died, to mock him for the power he had once had over them, to remind him that he had none now nor ever would again.

“Anne …” His lips formed her name. I could almost see her, her black hair loose, her flashing eyes, that quick tongue that cared nothing for any… not even him.

“Witch,” he murmured.

“Anne, you're a witch. Had to be… Sons for England…”

So even at the end he was making excuses.

“Cardinal… what do you, sitting there? Why do you regard me so? I like not your look, Cardinal. Too clever…knew too much. You died. I was sad to see you die, Thomas. Can you see her there? Tell her to take those black eyes from me. Witch…sorceress. Blood… blood everywhere. The monks are there. Monks… monks. Monks.” His voice rose to a scream.

One of the doctors gave him a soothing drink.

“Ah,” he murmured. “Better… better. Who is that by the door? Tell her to go away. Who is that screaming? Catharine. She is young…very young. Led astray. Stop her screaming. Where is the Queen? Kate. Kate. Such gentle hands. There she is … that one. She is coming closer. Her hands are about her neck … I can see the blood there … and she is laughing … mocking. Send those monks away. I like them not. What time is it?”

“Two of the clock,” said Wriothesley.

“Shall I live through the day?”

No one answered. None believed he would.

“The boy is young yet…Take care of him. Watch over him. He will be your King. Such a little boy… not yet ten years old… not strong…”

“Your Majesty should have no fears,” he was told.

“Your ministers will do all that has to be done.”

By the time Cranmer came, the King could not speak. He placed his hand in that of the Archbishop. Then he closed his eyes.

The King was dead.


* * *

HE LAY IN STATE for twelve days in the chapel of Whitehall. A wax figure had been set up beside the coffin. It was uncannily like him, dressed as it was in jeweled robes of great magnificence. The body was to be taken to Windsor for burial and placed beside that of Jane Seymour, the mother of his son.

The procession was four miles long, and the wax effigy was put into a chariot and rode beside the coffin. At Sion House they rested awhile, and the coffin was placed in the chapel there.

It was at Sion House, where Catharine Howard had spent some of her most tortured hours while she was waiting to be taken to the Tower, that a most gruesome event was supposed to have taken place.

It was said that, when the coffin was removed, beneath it was seen blood on the stone flags of the chapel, and it could only be assumed that it had seeped through the wood of the coffin. Then some man said he saw a little dog come in and lick up the blood.

Whether this was true or not I cannot say. But if it was not, it was an indication of what was in people's minds. They would remember those two murdered wives; one might say three, for my mother's death had been hastened by his treatment of her. Katharine Parr had come near to losing her head, and barbarous torture had been inflicted on the monks. People would remember handsome Surrey. Norfolk, by sheer good luck for him, was still in the Tower, the King having died before he could sign his death warrant.

It was remembered that Friar Peto had likened the King to Ahab and had prophesied that the dogs in like manner would lick his blood.

Perhaps it was this prophecy which had prompted the man to imagine he had seen the dog in the chapel. One could not tell. But it did show that the people were aware of the blood which had been shed, and there could not have been one man in the country who would have liked to take on the burden of guilt which must be the King's.

And so to Windsor, where the coffin was buried next to Jane's under the floor of the chapel. After it was lowered by means of a vice, sixteen Yeomen of the Guard of his household broke their staves of office over their heads and threw them down onto the coffin.

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.

The planned Escape

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.