Happily, the conspiracy in favour of Lady Jane was crushed, without bloodshed, although it had seemed for a time as if the nation, was on the brink of a civil war.  But, though Mary wished to spare Lady Jane and her husband, her intentions were frustrated by the determination of Renard, ambassador of the emperor.  Northumberland was sent to the Tower, and beheaded on August 22, and in the following November Lady Jane and her husband were also condemned.  Mary long hesitated, but at length issued the fatal warrant on February 8, 1554, and four days later both were executed.  Lady Jane was but a delicate girl of seventeen, but met her fate with the utmost heroism.

Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, became the chief instrument of the restoration of the Catholic faith under Mary.  His fierce spirit soon began to display itself.  In the fiery obstinacy of his determination this prelate speedily became the incarnate expression of the fury of the ecclesiastical faction, smarting, as they were, under their long degradation, and under the irritating consciousness of those false oaths of submission which they had sworn to a power they loathed.  Gardiner now saw his Romanising party once more in a position to revenge their wrongs when there was no longer any Henry to stand between them and their enemies.  He would take the tide at the flood, forge a weapon keener than the last, and establish the Inquisition.

The Reign of Terror

Mary listened to the worse counsels of each, and her distempered humour settled into a confused ferocity.  Both Gardiner and she resolved to secure the trial, condemnation, and execution of her sister Elizabeth, but their plans utterly miscarried, for no evidence against her could be gathered.  The princess was known to be favourable to the Protestant cause, but the attempts to prove her disloyalty to Mary were vain.  She was imprisoned in the Tower, and the fatal net appeared to be closing on her.  But though the danger of her murder was very great, the lords who had reluctantly permitted her to be imprisoned would not allow her to be openly sacrificed, or indeed, permit the queen to continue in the career of vengeance on which she had entered.  The necessity of releasing Elizabeth from the Tower was an unspeakable annoyance to Mary.  A confinement at Woodstock was the furthest stretch of severity that the country would, for the present, permit.  On May 19, 1554, Elizabeth was taken up the river.

The princess believed herself that she was being carried off tanquam ovis, as she said—­as a sheep for the slaughter.  But the world thought she was set at liberty, and, as her barge passed under the bridge, Mary heard with indignation, from the palace windows, three salvoes of artillery fired from the Steelyard, as a sign of the joy of the people.  Vexations began to tell on Mary’s spirit.  She could not shake off her anxieties, or escape from the shadow of her subject’s hatred.  Insolent pamphlets were dropped in her path and in the offices of Whitehall.  They were placed by mysterious hands in the sanctuary of her bedroom.