In the Shadow of the Crown, стр. 75

“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.

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 Francois 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.