The Tower of London. William Harrison Ainsworth
the hands of those who will uphold her, and destroy you?
“No more of this,” interposed the Queen. “If you are, what you profess yourselves, my faithful subjects, you will reconcile your differences.”
“Never!” exclaimed the Duke. “Let M. Renard look to himself.”
“Another such menace, my lord,” said Jane, “and I place you in arrest.”
“Threatened men live long,” observed Renard. “I beseech your majesty not to place any restraint upon his grace.”
“Will your highness grant me a moment’s speech with you!” said Northumberland, sheathing his sword.
“Not now, my lord,” replied Jane. “To-morrow, at the council, you shall be fully heard. And I charge you, by your allegiance, to cease all hostilities till then. Have I your knightly word for this?”
“You have,” replied the Duke, after a moment’s reflection.
“And yours, M. Renard?” continued the Queen, turning to him.
“Since his grace has passed his word I cannot withhold mine,” replied the ambassador. “But I give it with reluctance.”
“Your grace will not fail to attend the council to-morrow,” said Jane.
“If your highness desires it I will not, undoubtedly,” replied the Duke. “But since you decline to act upon my advice, there can be little need for my presence.”
“My wishes—my commands are, that you attend,” rejoined the Queen.
“Your wishes are commands,” rejoined the Duke. “I will be there.”
“Enough,” replied Jane. “M. Renard, you will accompany me to the palace.”
As the ambassador was preparing to depart, he perceived Northumberland’s cap lying at his feet.
“Your grace’s hat,” he observed, pointing to it. And glancing significantly at Jane, he added, in an audible whisper, “Would the head were in it!”
“Ha!” exclaimed the Duke, laying his hand upon his sword. “But you are safe till to-morrow.”
Renard made no reply, but with a smile of exultation followed the Queen out of the chapel.
XI.—HOW THE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND WAS PREVAILED UPON TO UNDERTAKE THE ENTERPRISE AGAINST THE LADY MARY.
At noon on the following day, the Council was held as appointed by the Queen. In the meantime, alarming intelligence having been received of the accession which Mary’s party had obtained, it became absolutely necessary that immediate and decisive measures should be taken against her.
As soon as the Lords of the Council, including the two ambassadors, Renard and Noailles, were assembled, and the Queen had taken her seat upon the throne, the Earl of Pembroke stepped forward, and thus addressed her:—
“It is with infinite concern that I have to apprise your majesty that news has just been brought that Sir Edward Hastings, with an army of four thousand men, has gone over to the Lady Mary. Five counties also have revolted. Your highness is already aware that the Earls of Sussex, Bath and Oxford, Lord Wentworth, Sir Thomas Cornwallis and Sir Henry Jerningham, have raised the commoners of Suffolk and Norfolk. Lord Windsor, Sir Edmund Peckham, Sir Robert Drury, and Sir Edward Hastings, have now raised those of Buckinghamshire. Sir John Williams and Sir Leonard Chamberlain have stirred up a party in Oxfordshire, and Sir Thomas Tresham another in Northamptonshire. These rebels with their companies are now marching towards Framlingham Castle.”
“The revolt must be instantly checked,” rejoined Jane. “An army must be sent against her.”
“To whom will your majesty entrust its command?” inquired the Earl of Pembroke.
“To one well fitted for the office,—my father, the Duke of Suffolk,” answered the Queen.
“My advice is, that it be given to the Duke of Northumberland,” said the Earl of Arundel. “Wherever he has carried his arms—in Scotland and in France—he has been victorious. The recollection of the defeat sustained by the rebels at Dussindale will operate in his favour. His grace has every recommendation for the office. Having achieved the victory of Norfolk once already, he will be so feared that none will dare to lift up a weapon against him. Besides which, I need scarcely remind your highness, who must be familiar with his high reputation, that he is the best man of war in the realm, as well for the ordering of his camps and soldiers, both in battle and in the tent, as for his experience and wisdom, with which he can both animate his army and either vanquish his enemies by his courage and skill, or else dissuade them (if need be,) from their enterprise.”
“My voice is for Northumberland,” cried Cecil.
“And mine,” added Huntingdon.
“We are all unanimous,” cried the rest of the Council.
“Your grace hears the opinion just given,” said Jane. “Will you undertake the command?”.
“No,” answered the Duke, bluntly. “I will shed my blood in your majesty’s defence. But I see through the designs, of your artful council, and will not be made their dupe. Their object is to withdraw me from you. Let the Duke of Suffolk take the command. I will maintain the custody of the Tower.”
“Do not suffer him to decline it,” whispered Simon Renard to the Queen. “By this means you will accomplish a double purpose—insure a victory over Mary, and free yourself from the yoke he will otherwise impose upon you. If the Duke of Suffolk departs, and he is left absolute master of the Tower, you will never attain your rightful position.”
“You are right,” replied Jane. “My lord,” she continued, addressing the Duke, “I am satisfied that the Council mean you well. And I pray you, therefore, to acquiesce in their wishes and my own.”.
“Why will not your highness send the Duke of Suffolk, as you have this moment proposed?” rejoined Northumberland.
“I have bethought me,” replied the Queen. “And as my husband has thought fit to absent himself from me at this perilous juncture, I am resolved not to be left without a protector. Your grace will, therefore, deliver up the keys of the Tower to the Duke of Suffolk.”
“Nay, your majesty,”—cried Northumberland.
“I will have no nay, my lord,” interrupted the Queen peremptorily. “I will in nowise consent that my father shall leave me. To whom else would your grace entrust the command?”
The Duke appeared to reflect for a moment.
“I know no one,” he answered.
“Then your grace must perforce consent,” said the Queen.
“If your majesty commands it, I must. But I feel it is a desperate hazard,” replied Northumberland.
“It is so desperate,” whispered Pembroke to Renard,—“that he has not one chance in his favour.”
“The Council desire to know your grace’s determination?” said Arundel.
“My determination is this,” rejoined the Duke. “Since you think it good, I will go,—not doubting your fidelity to the Queen’s majesty, whom I shall leave in your custody.”
“He is lost!” whispered Renard.
“Your grace’s commission for the lieutenantship of the army shall be signed at once,” said Jane; “and I beseech you to use all diligence.”
“I will do what in me lies,”