My Story: Lady Jane Grey (My Royal Story) (3 page)

BOOK: My Story: Lady Jane Grey (My Royal Story)
2.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
21 February 1547
Seymour Place

I am writing quickly before Nurse returns to put me to bed. I have been bursting to write my journal
all day
and hope I have not forgotten anything the Admiral told me. He does not know I keep a journal, of course. I love and honour my guardian, but I will never tell him about it. I will never tell anyone about it. It is a secret between Edward and me.
King
Edward I should say now, but it feels strange to think that my nine-year-old cousin is now King of England.

How the Admiral made me laugh. I do not believe everything he told me about the coronation but Katherine will enjoy hearing about it so I am writing it down all the same. He said one thing I do not think is true – that Edward was seasick on the river – like me, the Admiral added, smiling. The ladies looked at each other – as if he should not have said that.

The coronation train must have been very heavy. Three men were needed to carry it! The Protector carried the crown, of course, and Father, the sceptre. The Duke of Suffolk carried the orb. (He is only eleven!)

They all had to kneel to him and promise to serve him. It makes me giggle to think of those big important men on their knees to a small boy. Then one by one they kissed his cheek. Imagine! There were hundreds of them! Many of them have scratchy beards, too. Poor Edward. It cannot have been very nice.

10 March 1547
Seymour Place

I have a lot to think about and am sure I’ll never be able to sleep. Today, the Admiral took me in his barge downriver to Chelsea, which is where the Queen lives now. (She is now the Queen Dowager, but I will call her the Queen in my journal because that is how I still think of her.) I sat on a cushion under the canopy next to the Admiral. The watermen rowed well and smoothly as if they made this journey often, and for once I was not sick. On the way back the youngest waterman winked at me and I wondered what he’d think if he knew that he had winked at a future queen! Queen in my own right! Of course a lot of people would have to die first – Edward and his sisters Mary and Elizabeth and any children they have. What will Katherine think when I write and tell her! The Queen insists it is true. We three Grey sisters have been named in King Henry’s will. It is because of Mother, she said. If only Mother wasn’t King Henry’s niece. The Queen said I went quite pale when she told me. I wonder what the two royal princesses think? They are both staying there. I made each a deep curtsy. The Lady Mary is thin and old and short-sighted and talks like a man. She and the Queen are great friends, but she always makes me feel uncomfortable. She is to leave here soon and have a household of her own. The Lady Elizabeth is everyone’s pet. She is nearly fourteen and very clever, but I do not like her much. When I addressed her as the Lady Elizabeth, she tossed her head haughtily and said, no, I am
Princess
Elizabeth. Well, she is not. She may now be third in line for the throne, but some people still say King Henry was not her father. The Queen says I should feel sympathy for her. Remember, she said, she has just lost her father (if he is her father!). The Queen is still in mourning for the King, but she seems very happy. She and the Admiral went away to walk in the gardens while I played with her little dog, Rig. It is easy to see how much they like each other. On our way back to Seymour Place the Admiral asked if I had been happy there. He seemed most anxious that I was. He is such a kind guardian.

15 March 1547
Seymour Place

I have just returned from Court and have stolen away to my chamber to write. I saw the King today! The Queen was at Court too, as was the Admiral who had to bring me, of course. Edward looked tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw the Queen. He is as fond of her as she is of him. I think it is sad she has no children of her own. I had to remember to call my cousin Your Majesty. It sounded odd to my ears, and Edward said he had still not got used to being called it either. I find it hard not to laugh when I see mighty noblemen get down on their knees to talk to him.

The Admiral escorted us into the garden. A thin fog rose from the river. It was very cold but it was easier to talk privately there. The Admiral strolled behind with the Queen, while Edward and I walked on ahead.

“Are you never alone?” I asked him.

“Never,” he replied. “I am well guarded.”

“The Lord Protector—”

“He is an old hen,” Edward complained. “I am barely out of his sight.”

“I have not seen him here today,” I said.

“He is away, fighting the Scots at Berwick,” Edward said. “As is the Earl of Warwick. The Earl was nearly captured,” he told me. “Have you not heard?” Then I had to listen while Edward described the battle they had fought and all the men they had slain. It seemed odd to hear my solemn cousin talk with such relish of a battle.

But I am pleased that he still confides in me – even though he is now king. I was just wondering if I should tell him about my journal when he suddenly said: “Jane, do you keep a journal? Did you keep your promise to me?”

“Indeed I did,” I said. “I have a special book which I use just for that purpose!” I gave him a meaningful look. Edward smiled. “Is it red with a gold clasp?”

“It is,” I said. “I write in it as often as I can.” I glanced back, in case anyone was listening, but the Admiral was deep in conversation with the Queen.

“I am glad you like it,” he said. We giggled. I am pleased we share a secret!

“I will keep our secret,” I said. “But why did you not tell me you sent it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said. “And I knew you would know. Oh Jane,” he said, “I am pleased to see you. I can talk to you.”

“I too am pleased to see you,” I said, but I felt shy suddenly, remembering how my parents want me to marry him. I wonder if he knows that, and if he would like to marry me.

“Have you got a safe place to keep your journal?” Edward asked suddenly.

“I always lock it and I hide the key,” I said.

Edward smiled slyly. “I keep mine in my desk which I can lock. No one but me knows where I keep the key.”

I was silent. What must it be like to be so closely guarded? Even in his journal Edward has to watch what he says. I would not be him for all the riches in Christendom.

The Queen caught up with us then and I listened as Edward asked about the book she has written and when it is to be published. It is called
The Lamentation of a Sinner
. She is so clever. The Admiral fell behind, and I saw him put up a hand to hide a yawn. He does not share our love of learning.

Katherine has written, demanding to know about the acrobatics. I had promised to tell her about them, but I quite forgot. Edward told me the procession got delayed while he watched them.

17 March 1547
Seymour Place

I caught a chill walking in the garden and have been put to bed. The Admiral must have sent word I was ill for the Queen came to visit me this morning, bringing a posset she had made herself. It tastes much nicer than anything I am dosed with at home – and I am able to sit up in bed now, too. Oh, I do love her.

The Lady Mary has left Chelsea now, the Queen told me. She seemed sad, she is fond of her stepdaughter, and they are about the same age, but I am not sorry. Lady Mary makes me nervous, the way she peers at me. Her dark eyes are curiously sharp for someone who is so short-sighted.

I had my Greek testament on my bed, and the Queen asked if I could read it yet. I shut my eyes and recited a few lines from the beginning. I do not think I made many mistakes. She smiled. “You are a clever girl, Jane.” She picked up my doll, which had fallen on the floor. “But do you never play?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “But I’d rather read. Books are much more interesting.”

“You put my young maids of honour to shame,” the Queen said, laying the doll on the bed. I asked if she would tell me about the book she has written. She promises she will – when I am better.

25 March 1547
Seymour Place

I am trying to write, but the noise of builders hammering and banging distracts me. It irritates the Admiral even more. He marches up and down, roaring – God’s blood, does he think he is king? He means his brother, the Lord Protector, who is building a new house nearby, in the Italian style. I say it is a house, but it sounds as if it will be more like a palace.

It will please his wife, who behaves as if she is queen. “He has been well rewarded for his little war against the Scots,”
the Admiral harrumphs. I cannot think what he means. His building has upset others too. Churches have been knocked down to make room for his palace. They were popish churches so I am not sorry.

20 April 1547
Seymour Place

Have seen little of my guardian these past weeks. He rises early, before I have broken my fast, and often doesn’t return until after I have gone to bed. He must often be at Court and have important matters of state to attend to now that he is High Admiral. I am quite content though. I progress well in my studies and Lady Seymour treats me kindly and praises my industriousness. I must take care not to let her praise swell my head. I do not deserve it, for studying is no hardship to me. It is my dearest delight. Oh, that I could spend my whole life at my books. Books are my safe place, my refuge from the ills of this world.

10 May 1547
Seymour Place

The Admiral and the Queen are married. They have been married for several weeks! I felt sore at first to think that they had kept the news from me – and they had the King’s permission, the Admiral said, so I cannot think why it had to be a secret. But when the Admiral asked if I was pleased, I promptly said I was. How could I not be? I love them both so much.

Not everyone is pleased though. I heard raised voices come from Lady Seymour’s apartment and saw the Admiral emerge, red-faced and cross. Lady Seymour has kept to her apartments since and I saw a maid take her supper to her in her chamber.

What must the two princesses think? They are very fond of their stepmother, but Nurse says it is a smack in the face for them. “They will feel the Queen has dishonoured their father’s memory,” she said. “It is too soon for them to marry. And what if she has a baby soon? No one will know whose it is – the King’s or the Admiral’s!” And then her face went all pink!

20 May 1547
Chelsea Place

By barge, to Chelsea Place. Now that the Admiral has married the Queen it is to be my home, too. I felt nervous as I was helped ashore. I was joining the household of a queen. She is Queen Dowager now of course, but it is still a great household and many ladies attend on her. There are so many faces and names to learn that I am quite bewildered.

The Queen greeted me kindly as always. I curtsied to her but she took my hand and kissed me warmly, and told me I looked pale. “I will not rest until there is some colour in those cheeks,” she said. “You spend too much time at your books. Tomorrow I will show you my garden. You will learn something new, in the fresh air.” She laughed. She has had many new plants put in, she told me, and walks in the garden daily. “It helps me to think,” she said.

I have a pleasant bedchamber overlooking the gardens. While my nurse unpacked and folded away my gowns, I went to the open window and leaned out. Usually it stinks so close to the river, but I could smell damask roses, lavender, bay and rosemary. There are trees of peach, cherry, damson and hazelnut in the gardens. And across the river I can see fields, cottages and churches. It is hard to believe that the village of Chelsea is only a few miles from Dorset Place. The city seems a hundred miles away. We are truly in the country here.

I would be utterly content were it not for my cousin Elizabeth. She is not used to sharing attention, which she thinks is her right. She calls me “little cousin Jane” and smiles and is polite but I cannot tell what she really thinks about anything. She has said nothing about the Queen’s marriage. Her governess, Kat Ashley, dotes on her. I often hear them laughing together as if they are the greatest of friends. I do not think we will be friends. I asked her if she would play a game of skittles, but she looked so bored that I will not ask again. Clearly she thinks me too young to be her playmate or companion. But I will show her that I am just as clever as her, even if she is four years older.

1 June 1547
Chelsea Place

Nurse complained this morning that there are dark circles under my eyes. “You work too hard,” she grumbled, pulling back the hangings round my bed.

“The Lady Elizabeth’s tutor, Master Grindal, says I am like a plant,” I told her. “I will flourish in good soil. I am planted in good soil here.”

“Humph,” said my nurse. “All books and no play. You will go to bed early tonight, my girl, and if I find you neglected by the fireside one more time…” She shook her head and left me, still muttering, “Good soil indeed!”

Dear Mistress Ellen! She will never understand. I had fallen asleep again by the fireside last night listening to the ladies’ conversation. The Queen has surrounded herself with clever women. Books, music, new ideas, the new religion … such things they talk about. The Queen thinks it is important that girls are educated and learn to think for themselves. So, I had listened as they talked about the changes being made to the church services. The Lord Protector is making it his business to reform the church in England. I had crept ever closer, eager to hear what I could. But I am so small that I think they forgot I was there.

The Queen had had to be careful what she said in front of King Henry. He was not a true follower of the new religion like us. I once heard Nurse say he only became head of the church in England so that he could get his own way and marry Elizabeth’s mother. It was fortunate that no one but me heard her! But now that Edward is being brought up as a Protestant like me and his sister Elizabeth, it is the Catholics who have to watch what they say. But there are many like the Lady Mary, who do not like the new religion and would change it back to the old one if they could. Mary is a fervent Catholic, though it has not spoilt my mother’s friendship with her. Mary is her niece, after all.

Other books

Carolina se enamora by Federico Moccia
Mutant Legacy by Haber, Karen
El tiempo escondido by Joaquín M. Barrero
Banana Man (a Novella) by Blake, Christian
A Summer in Paris by Cynthia Baxter
To Kiss a Thief by Susanna Craig