“It would do no good. There would be another, and it is better to have one of whose methods we know something.”
“I shall send Norfolk against them.”
I was confident at this time that the trouble would soon be over.
This was not the case. As Renard had pointed out, Wyatt was a soldier; and, to my horror, it was not Wyatt who was defeated but Norfolk. I was greatly distressed when our soldiers returned to London; they were tired, dirty and hungry; they looked like the defeated army they were. There was great consternation among the citizens. It was clear to them that this was a serious revolt.
Then came the news that Wyatt was preparing to march on London.
It began dawning on me that I was in a desperate situation. I had no army to defend me. I asked myself how far I could trust my Council. I knew them for a group of ambitious men jostling for power. There was a small faction against Gardiner. He—with my support, it is true—was too fervent a Catholic; he was accused of causing trouble by trying to force people to join in religious observances against their will and for which they were not yet ready. Gardiner turned to them and declared that the sole trouble was the Spanish marriage and he had often questioned the wisdom of that.
So there I was, in my capital city, without an army, with a Council who were quarrelling among themselves, and rebels preparing to come against me.
Wyatt's headquarters were at Rochester, where he had gathered men and ammunition and was preparing to march on London. I sent messages throughout the country, offering a pardon to all his followers who left him within the next twenty-four hours and returned peacefully to their homes, reminding them that, if they did not, they would be judged traitors.
Then we heard that he was on his way with 4,000 men.
Gardiner came to see me. He was in a state of some agitation. Clearly he felt Wyatt to be a formidable foe. He said he had sent messages to him, asking him to state his demands.
I was astounded. “This is amounting to a truce,” I said.
“Your Majesty, the situation is dangerous. We have to halt this march on London.”
“I will not parley with him. Let him come. We will face him.”
“Your Majesty does not fully grasp the danger. He is marching on us with his army. The Council has considered the matter. Your Majesty must go to the Tower immediately… no, better still, Windsor. You should not be here when Wyatt's men come into the town.”
“They shall not come into the town,” I said firmly, “and I shall not go to Windsor. I will stay here and face these rebels.”
“It was suggested that you should dress as one of the people … and mingle with them so that it would not be known who you are.”
“I shall certainly not do that. I am the Queen, and everyone must know that I am the Queen.”
Renard came to tell me that the Imperial Commissioners were preparing to leave the country. I thought that was wise, as they had been negotiating the marriage contract and the people might turn on them in their fury.
“They wish to come and take their leave.”
“Then bring them,” I said.
When they arrived, I told them to give my best wishes to the Emperor and to tell him that I would write to him and tell him the outcome of this little matter.
They were astounded by my calmness. They believed I was in acute danger. I might have been, but at that time I was so confident of my destiny that I had no fear.
When they left, I went to the Guildhall. The people, aware of my coming, assembled there.
They cheered me as I approached, and it was heartwarming to hear the cry of “God save Queen Mary!”
I spoke to them, and I was glad of my deep voice—which some had said was more like a man's than a woman's—as I heard it ringing out with confidence which seemed to inspire them and disperse some of their anxieties.
“My loving subjects,” I cried, “who I am, you well know. I am your Queen, to whom at my coronation you promised allegiance and obedience. I am the rightful inheritor of this crown. My father's regal state has descended on me. It would seem that some do not like my proposed marriage. My beloved subjects, I do not enter into this out of self-will or lust, but it is my bounden duty to leave you an heir to follow me. It is untrue that harm will come to our country through my marriage. If I thought I should harm that and you, I should remain a virgin all my life. I do not know how a mother loves her child because I have never been a mother, but I assure you that I, being your Queen, see myself as your mother, and as such do I love you. Good subjects, lift up your hearts. Remember that you are true men and brave. Stand fast against these rebels. They are not only my enemies but yours also. Fear them not, for I assure you I fear them not at all.”
As I stopped speaking, the cheers rang out. “God save Queen Mary!”
“People of London,” I went on, “will you defend me against these rebels? If you will, I am minded to live and die with you and strain every nerve in your cause, for at this time your fortunes, goods and honor, your personal safety and that of your wives and children are in the balance.”
As I stopped speaking, once more the cheers rang out.
It was clear that they were all deeply moved. Gardiner, who had been beside me, looked at me with a dazed expression. Then he said, “I am happy that we have such a wise Queen.”
The people of London were rallying to my side. The streets were full of men prepared to fight. I was gratified. I knew I had taken the right course. I felt that I had been inspired and that God was showing me the way.
IT WAS THREE O'CLOCK in the morning. I was startled out of a dreamless sleep to find Susan at my bedside.
“Your Majesty, the Council are here. They must see you at once.”
I hastily rose. Susan wrapped a robe about me, and I went into the anteroom where the Council were waiting for me.
Gardiner said to me, “Your Majesty must leave London without delay. Wyatt is at Deptford. He will be at the city gates ere long.”
I replied, “I have promised the people of London that I will stay with them.”
“It is unsafe for Your Majesty to stay here.”
I was thoughtful for a moment. It was all against my instincts to fly, and yet, on the other hand, if I stayed and was murdered, what good would I be to my faith? It was my duty to restore this country to God's grace, and how could I do that… dead?
I was very undecided. My inclination was to stay, because I had given my word to the people of London. But was it foolish?
Only the previous day Renard had congratulated me on my speech to the people at the Guildhall. He said that if I had left London then, Wyatt could have succeeded, and that would have meant putting Elizabeth on the throne and strengthening the Protestant influence in the country. How wise I had been to act as I did, he said. The Emperor would approve.
And now here was my Council suggesting flight.
I said, “I will decide in the morning.”
Gardiner replied that the time was short. In the morning it might be too late.
“Nevertheless,” I replied, “I will decide then.”
As soon as they had gone, I sent one of my servants to bring Renard to me. He came with all speed.
“They are suggesting I leave for Windsor,” I told him. “They say that Wyatt is all but at the gates of the city, and if I stay here and he is victorious, it will be the end of my reign, and me most likely.”
“Your presence here has brought out the loyalty of these citizens,” said Renard.
“If you go, Wyatt will be allowed to walk in. Elizabeth will be proclaimed Queen, and that will be the end of your reign.”
“You are saying that I should stay.”
He nodded slowly. “I am saying just that.”
So my mind was made up. I should stay.
LONDON WAS A CITY at war. The shops had been boarded up, and all the goods were removed from the stalls. Armed men were everywhere; the drawbridges were cut loose, and the gates of the city were barred and guarded.