28. Lady Elizabeth
28. LADY ELIZABETH
The miraculous preservation of the Lady Elizabeth, now Queen of England, from extreme calamity and danger of life, in the time of Queen Mary her sister.
But when all hath been said and told, whatsoever can be recited touching the admirable working of God's present hand in defending and delivering any one person out of thraldom, never was there since the memory of our fathers, any example to be showed, wherein the Lord's mighty power hath more admirably and blessedly showed itself, to the glory of his own name, to the comfort of all good hearts, and to the public felicity of this whole realm, than in the miraculous custody and outscape * of this our sovereign lady, now queen, then Lady
Elizabeth, in the strait time of Queen Mary her sister.
The blessed protection of almighty God in preserving the Lady Elizabeth in her manifold dangers and troubles.
In which story, first we have to consider in what extreme misery, sickness, fear, and peril her highness was: into what care, what trouble of mind, and what danger of death she was brought: first with great routs and bands of armed men (and happy was he that might have the carrying of her) being fetched up as the greatest traitor in the world, clapped in the Tower, and again tossed from thence, from house to house, from prison to prison, from post to pillar, at length also prisoner in her own house, and guarded with a sort of cutthroats, which ever gaped for the spoil, whereby they might be fingering of somewhat.
The troubles of Lady Elizabeth in Queen Mary's time.
Secondly, to consider again we have, all this notwithstanding, how strangely, or rather miraculously from danger she was delivered: what favour and grace she found with the almighty, who when all help of man, and hope of recovery was past, stretched out his mighty protection, and preserved her highness, and placed her in this princely seat of rest and quietness, wherein now she sitteth, and long may she sit, the Lord of his glorious mercy grant, we beseech him.
In which story, if I should set forth at large and at full, all the particulars and circumstances thereunto belonging, and as just occasion of the history requireth, besides the importunate
Foxe's Book of Martyrs
length of the story discoursed, peradventure it might move offence to some being yet alive, and truth might get me hatred.
Yet notwithstanding I intend (by the grace of Christ) therein to use such brevity and moderation, as both may be to the glory of God, the discharge of the story, the profit of the reader, and hurt to none, suppressing the names of some, whom here although I could recite, yet I thought not to be more cruel in hurting their name, than the queen hath been merciful in pardoning their lives.
Therefore now to enter into the discourse of this tragical matter, first here is to be noted, that Queen Mary when she was first queen, before she was crowned, would go no whither, but would have her by the hand, and send for her to dinner and supper: but after she was crowned, she never dined nor supped with her, but kept her aloof from her, et cetera. After this it happened, immediately upon the rising of Sir Thomas
Wyatt . . . that the Lady Elizabeth and the Lord Courtenay* were charged with false suspicion of Sir Thomas Wyatt's rising. Whereupon Queen Mary, whether for that surmise, or for what other cause I know not, being offended with the said Elizabeth her sister, at that time lying in her house at Ashridge, the next day after the rising of Wyatt, sent to her three of her councillors, to wit, Sir Richard Southwell,* Sir
Edward Hastings,* then Master of the Horse, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis,* with their retinue and troop of horsemen, to the number of two hundred and fifty. Who at their sudden and unprovided* coming, found her at the same time sore sick in her bed, and very feeble and weak of body. Whither when they came, ascending up to her grace's Privy Chamber, they willed one of her ladies, whom they met, to declare unto her grace, that there were certain come from the court, which had a message from the queen. . . .
The history of the Lady Elizabeth.
Sir Richard Southwell, Sir Edward Hastings, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis sent to fetch up Lady Elizabeth, with whom also afterward At whose so sudden coming into her bed chamber, her grace being not a little amazed, said unto them: 'Is the haste such, that it might not have pleased you to come tomorrow in the morning?' was sent the Lord William Haward, et cetera.
The unmannerliness of the They made answer, that they were right sorry to see her in that case. 'And I,' (quoth she), 'am not glad to see you here at this time of the night.' Whereunto they answered, that they knights.
Lady Elizabeth
came from the queen to do their message and duty: which was to this effect, that the queen's pleasure was, that she should be at London the seventh day of that present month. Whereunto she said: 'Certes, no creature more glad than I to come to her majesty, being right sorry that I am not in case at this time to wait on her, as you yourselves do see and can well testify.'
'Indeed we see it true,' (quoth they), 'that you do say: for which we are very sorry. Albeit we let you to understand, that our commission is such, and so straineth us, that we must needs bring you with us, either quick or dead.' Whereat she being amazed, sorrowfully said, that their commission was very sore: but yet notwithstanding she hoped it to be otherwise, and not so strait. 'Yes verily,' said they. Whereupon they called for two physicians, Doctor Owen and Doctor Wendy,*
[and] demanded of them, whether she might be removed from thence with life, or no. Whose answer and judgement was, that there was no impediment to their judgement, to the contrary, but that she might travel without danger of life.
A strait comision from the Quen to bring the Lady Elizabeth either quick, or In conclusion, they willed her to prepare against the morning at nine of the clock to go with them, declaring that they had brought with them the queen's litter for her. After much talk, the messengers declaring how there was no prolonging of times and days, so departed to their chamber, being entertained and cheered as appertained to their worships.
The gentlenes of Quen Mary to send her horse liter to bring her sister to On the next morrow at the time prescribed, they had her forth as she was, very faint and feeble, and in such case, that she was ready to swoon three or four times between them.
What should I speak here that cannot well be expressed, what an heavy house there was to behold the unreverent and doleful dealing of these men, but especially the careful fear and captivity of their innocent lady and mistress. . . .
Lady Elizabeth taketh her journey towards the Now, when she came to the court, her grace was there straight ways shut up, and kept as close prisoner a fortnight, which was till Palm Sunday, seeing neither king nor queen, nor lord, nor friend, all that time, but only then the Lord
Chamberlain, Sir John Gage,* and the Vice-chamberlain, which were attendant unto the doors. About which time Sir William
Sentlow was called before the Council. To whose charge was laid, that he knew of Wyatt's rebellion. Which he stoutly denied,
FoxeÕs Book of Martyrs
protesting that he was a true man, both to God and his prince, defying all traitors and rebels: but being straitly examined, he was in conclusion committed to the Tower.
Sir William Sentlow committed to the Tower.
The Friday before Palm Sunday, the Bishop of Winchester, with nineteen other of the Council (who shall be here nameless) came unto her grace from the queenÕs majesty, and burdened* her with WyattÕs conspiracy: which she utterly denied, afrming that she was altogether guiltless therein. They being not contented with this, charged her grace with business made by Sir Peter Carew,* and the rest of the gentlemen of the West
Country: which also she utterly denying, cleared her innocency therein.
Lady Elizabeth charged with Sir Thomas WyattÕs conspiracy.
Lady Elizabeth charged with the business of Peter Carew.
In conclusion, after long debating of matters, they declared unto her, that it was the queenÕs will and pleasure that she should go unto the Tower, while the matter were further tried and examined.
Lady Elizabeth threatened to go to the Tower.
Whereat she being aghast, said, that she trusted the queenÕs majesty would be [a] more gracious Lady unto her, and that her highness would not otherwise conceive of her, but that she was a true woman: declaring furthermore to the lords, that she was innocent in all those matters wherein they had burdened her, and desired them therefore to be a further mean to the queen her sister, that she being a true woman in thought, word, and deed towards her majesty, might not be committed to so notorious and doleful a place, protesting that she would request no mercy at her hand, if she should be proved to have consented unto any such kind of matter as they laid unto her charge: and therefore in ne desired their lordships to think of her what she was, and that she might not so extremely be dealt withal for her truth.
Lady Elizabeth purgeth herself to the lords.
Whereunto the lords answered again, that there was no remedy, for that the queenÕs majesty was fully determined that she should go unto the Tower. Wherewith the lords departed, with their caps hanging over their eyes.* But not long after, within the space of an hour or little more, came four of the foresaid lords of the Council, which were the Lord Treasurer,* the Bishop of Winchester,* the Lord Steward, [and] the Earl of Sussex,* with the guard, who warding the next chamber to her, secluded all her gentlemen and yeomen, ladies and gentlewomen,
Lady Elizabeth
saving that for one gentleman usher, three gentlewomen, and two grooms of her chamber, were appointed in their rooms three other men of the queen's, and three waiting women to give attendance upon her, that none should have access to her grace.
Lady Elizabeth's servants removed from her.
The Queen's men, and waiting women attendant upon Lady Elizabeth.
At which time there were an hundreth of Northern soldiers in white coats, watching and warding about the gardens all that night, a great fire being made in the midst of the hall, and two certain lords watching there also with their band and company.
Upon Saturday following, two lords of the Council (the one was the Earl of Sussex, the other shall be nameless*) came and certified her grace, that forthwith she must go unto the Tower, the barge being prepared for her, and the tide now ready, which tarryeth for nobody. In heavy mood her grace requested the lords that she might tarry another tide, trusting that the next would be better and more comfortable. But one of the lords replied, that neither tide nor time was to be delayed.
And when her grace requested him that she might be suffered to write to the queen's majesty, he answered, that he durst not permit that, adding that in his judgement it would rather hurt, than profit her grace in so doing.
The hard dealing of a certain Lord with the Lady Elizabeth.
But the other lord, more courteous and favourable (who was the Earl of Sussex), kneeling down, told her grace that she should have liberty to write, and as he was a true man, he would deliver it to the queen's highness, and bring an answer of the same, whatsoever came thereof. Whereupon she wrote, albeit she could in no case be suffered to speak with the queen to her great discomfort, being no offender against the queen's majesty.
The Earl of Sussex gentle to the Lady Elizabeth.
Lady Elizabeth writeth to the Queen but it would not serve.
And thus the tide and time passed away for that season, they privily appointing all things ready that she should go the next tide which fell about midnight: but for fear she should be taken by the way, they durst not. So they stayed till the next day, being
Palm Sunday, when about nine of the clock these two returned again, declaring that it was time for her grace to depart. She answering, 'if there be no remedy, I must be contented, willing the lords to go on before.' Being come forth into the garden, she did cast up her eyes toward the window, thinking to have seen
Foxe's Book of Martyrs
the queen, which she could not. Whereat she said she marvelled much what the nobility of the realm meant, which in that sort would suffer her to be led into captivity, the Lord knew whither, for she did not. In the mean time commandment was given in all London, that everyone should keep the church and carry their palms,* while in the mean season she might be conveyed without all recourse of people into the Tower.
After all this, she took her barge with the two foresaid lords, three of the queen's gentlewomen, and three of her own, her gentleman usher, and two of her grooms, lying and hovering upon the water a certain space, for that they could not shoot* the bridge, the bargemen being very unwilling to shoot the same so soon as they did, because of the danger thereof: for the stern of the boat, struck upon the ground, the fall* was so big, and the water was so shallow, that the boat being under the bridge, there stayed again a while. At landing, she first stayed, and denied to land at those stairs where all traitors and offenders customably used to land, neither well could she, unless she should go over her shoe. The lords were gone out of the boat before and asked why she came not. One of the lords went back again to her, and brought word [that] she would not come.
Lady Elizabeth sent to the Tower.
Then said one of the lords which shall be nameless,* that she should not choose: and because it did then rain, he offered to her his cloak, which she (putting it back with her hands with a good dash) refused. So she coming out, having one foot upon the stair, said: 'Here landeth as true a subject being prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs: and before thee O God I speak it, having none other friends but thee alone.'
The words of Lady Elizabeth entering the . . . After this passing a little further, she sat down upon a cold stone and there rested her self. To whom the Lieutenant then being, said: 'Madam, you were best to come out of the rain, for you sit unwholesomely.' She then replying, answered again: 'Better sitting here than in a worse place: for God knoweth, I know not whither you will bring me.' With that her gentleman usher wept: she demanding of him what he meant so uncomfortably to use her, seeing she took him to be her comforter, and not to dismay her, especially for that she knew her truth to be such, that no man should have cause to weep for her. But forth she went into the prison.
Tower.
Lady Elizabeth
The doors were locked and bolted upon her: which did not a little discomfort and dismay her grace. At what time she called to her gentlewoman for her book,* desiring God not to suffer her to build her foundation upon the sands but upon the rock,* whereby all blasts of blistering weather should have no power against her. The doors being thus locked, and she close shut up, the lords had great conference how to keep ward and watch, every man declaring his opinion in that behalf, agreeing straightly and circumspectly, to keep her.
The Christian prayer of Lady Elizabeth.
Then one of them, which was the lord of Sussex swearing, said: 'My lords, let us take heed, and do no more than our commission will bear us, whatsoever shall happen hereafter. And further, let us consider that she was the king, our master's daughter, and therefore let us use such dealing, that we may answer unto it hereafter, if it shall so happen, for just dealing,' (quoth he), 'is always answerable': whereunto the other lords agreed that it was well said of him, and thereupon departed. . . .
The lord of Sussex speaketh for Lady Elizabeth.
The next day her grace took her journey from thence to Woodstock, where she was enclosed, as before in the Tower of London, the soldiers guarding and warding both within and without the walls, every day to the number of threescore, and in the night without the walls forty during the time of her imprisonment there.
At length she had gardens appointed for her walk, which was very comfortable to her grace. But always when she did recreate herself therein, the doors were fast locked up, in as strait manner as they were in the Tower, being at the least five or six locks between her lodging and her walks: Sir Henry
[Bedingfield] himself keeping the keys, and trusting no man therewith. Whereupon she called him her jailer: and he kneeling down, desired her grace not to call him so, for he was appointed there to be one of her officers. 'From such officers,'
(quoth she), 'good Lord deliver me.'. . .
But before her removing away from Woodstock, we will a little stay to declare in what dangers her life was in during this time she there remained: first through fire, which began to kindle between the boards and ceiling under the chamber where she lay, whether by a spark of fire, gotten into a cranny, or whether of purpose by one that meant her no good, the Lady Elizabeth in danger of fire.
Foxe's Book of Martyrs
Lord doth know. Nevertheless a worshipful knight of Oxfordshire, which was there joined the same time with Sir
Henry Bedingfield in keeping that Lady (who then took up the boards and quenched the fire) verily supposed it to be done of purpose.
Furthermore it is thought, and also affirmed (if it be true) of one Paul Peny, a keeper of Woodstock, a notorious ruffian and a butcherly wretch, that he was appointed to kill the said Lady
Elizabeth: who both saw the man being often in her sight, and also knew thereof.
Lady Elizabeth in danger of killing.
Another time, one of the privy chamber, a great man about the queen, and chief darling of Stephen Gardiner, named
Master James Basset, came to Blandenbridge a mile from Woodstock, with twenty or thirty privy coats, and sent for Sir
Henry Bedingfield to come and speak with him. But, as God would, which disposed all things after the purpose of his own will, so it happened, that a little before the said Sir Henry
Bedingfield was sent for by post to the council, leaving straight word behind him with his brother, that no man, whatsoever he were, though coming with a bill of the queen's hand, or any other warrant, should have access to her before his return again. By reason whereof it so fell out, that Master Bedingfield's brother coming to him at the bridge, would suffer him in no case to approach in, who otherwise (as is supposed) was appointed violently to murder the innocent lady.
Another conspiracy of murder against Lady Elizabeth.
In the life of Stephen Gardiner we declared before . . . how that the Lady Elizabeth being in the Tower, a writ came down, subscribed with certain hands of the council for her execution. Which if it were certain, as it is reported,
Winchester (no doubt) was deviser of that mischievous drift: and doubtless the same Ahithophel* had brought his impious purpose that day to pass, had not the fatherly providence of almighty God (who is always stronger than the devil) stirred up Master Bridges, Lieutenant the same time of the Tower, to come in haste to the queen, to give certificate thereof, and to know further her consent touching her sister's death.
Whereupon it followed, that all that devise was disappointed, and Winchester's devilish platform, which he said he had cast through the Lord's great goodness, came to no effect.
Lady Elizabeth preserved by the Lord's providence from execution in the Tower.
Winchester's platform overthrown.
Lady Elizabeth
Where moreover is to be noted, that during the prisonment of this lady and princess, one Master Edmund Tremain was on the rack, and Master Smithwick, and diverse other in the Tower were examined, and diverse offers made to them to accuse the guiltless lady, being in her captivity. Howbeit all that notwithstanding, no matter could be proved by all examinations, as she the same time lying at Woodstock, had certain intelligence by the means of one John Gayer: who under a colourable pretence of a letter to Mistress Cleve from her father, was let in, and so gave them secretly to understand of all this matter. Whereupon the Lady Elizabeth at her departing out from Woodstock, wrote these verses with her diamond in a glass window.* Much suspected by me:
Nothing proved can be.
Quoth Elizabeth prisoner. . . .
Verses written by Lady Elizabeth in the glass window.
The next day following, her grace entered Hampton Court on the back side, into the prince's lodging, the doors being shut to her, and she guarded with soldiers, as before, lay there a fortnight at the least, or ever any had recourse unto her. . . .
Thus her grace departing, went to her lodging again, and the seventh night after was released of Sir Henry Bedingfield her jailer (as she termed him) and his soldiers, and so her grace being set at liberty from imprisonment, went into the country,* and had appointed to go with her Sir Thomas Pope,* one of Queen Mary's councillors, and one of her gentlemen ushers,
Master Gage, and thus straitly was she looked to* all Queen Mary's time. And this is the discourse of her highness's imprisonment. . . .
Lady Elizabeth by God's providence set at liberty.
Sir Henry Bedingfield discharged.