heard from the Emperor, who had sent a letter to the Council. In it he had threatened war with England if the right to worship as I pleased was denied to me.
I was exultant. I was sure that I was going in the right direction.
IT WAS CHRISTMAS of that year 1552. I was not at Court but a few days after the festival I decided to call on my brother to wish him well. I had felt sorry for him when we had met in the Council for I knew that he was acting as Northumberland bade him and that his harsh words had given him as much pain as they had me.
In any case, the object of the meeting had been to stop my worshipping in the way I always had; and that had failed. Scheyfve said it was due to the Emperor's threat, and this was in some measure true; but I did believe that my reception by the people had some part in it; Northumberland must remember that, in accordance with my father's will, I was next in the line of succession.
I felt sure he would do all in his power to prevent my coming to the throne. I could see nothing short of death, for he knew that as soon as I had the power my first act would be to bring the country back to Rome.
I prayed for guidance. I must be careful now. Northumberland, the most powerful man in the country, dared not let me come to the throne.
When I arrived at Court, it was to learn that my brother was too ill to see anyone. This was not an excuse to avoid me. He had caught a chill and, in addition to his other ailments, this could be dangerous.
I was greeted with some respect by the Court. I saw speculation in the eyes of many. The King was ill. Moreover, he was suffering from several diseases. How could he possibly recover, and then…?
My sister Elizabeth was being very subdued. I guessed she was thinking that certain powerful men would never accept me as Queen. How could they were, all those men who had done everything they could to turn me from my religion, to browbeat me, to force me to deny the Mass. They would take her, she was thinking. They must take her. She was wily; she was clever; but she could not hide the ambition in her eyes.
The King's health did not improve. All through that winter he was hardly ever out of his bed. I heard horrifying reports of his illnesses, and I feared some of them were true. He coughed blood; his body was a mass of ulcers similar to those which had plagued the late King. He was on the point of death. No one was able to see him except his ministers. Parliament came to Whitehall because the King could not go to Westminster. It cannot be long, was being said all over the country, and then… what?
Lady Jane Grey came to see me at Newhall. She must have been about fifteen or sixteen years old at that time. She had a certain quiet charm but she was a clever girl of firm opinions. She was very sad at this time because of Edward's illness.
She talked about him a great deal. They had always been such good friends, and the happiest times of her life, she said, had been when they were together.
“Can it really be that he is dying?” she asked.
I replied that I could not say. Sometimes delicate people surprised everyone. They were often stronger than people thought and everyone was so intent on keeping them alive that they sometimes succeeded.
“We were so much together…”
“I know. He loved you as a sister.”
She nodded sadly.
I thought she was rather pathetic. She had had a sad childhood. Her parents had treated her with the utmost severity, I had heard. I remembered Mrs. Penn's indignantly saying that there were marks of physical punishment on her body. She had an air of frailty, but I guessed she would have a will of her own.
During that brief stay, she told me that her parents were proposing to marry her to Lord Guilford Dudley.
“Northumberland's son!”
She nodded. “He is the Duke's fourth son. It had to be he. The others are already married.”
I was aghast. It was clear that Northumberland wanted Jane in his family because she had royal blood through her mother, who was the daughter of Mary Tudor and Charles