View allAll Photos Tagged Principles
Principles of Finance Online Degrees trains the students in making decisions about working capital and long-term investments. In addition to providing students with understanding of fundamentals of finance.
The four girls by the ocean show unity because they round out the focus of the shot by having a sense of repetition. The tomatoes are my example of repetition, the yellow and red little blobs blend together and are echoed through the piece. The peppers show harmony, the complimentary colors are very harmonious. My friend Amy's head and a painting at the MOMA shows variety, in the textures and colors. The thistle plant is an example of contrast, the color scales shows a large contrast. The back round is blurred cool colors and the front is contrasted with the flash and harsh sharp lines. Proximity is represented by the picture of the MOMA, even though I did not personally place these objects they have a great balance that rounds out the picture. The security guard and the empty room set the tone of this picture to feel lonely. The picture of the water and the fern is to show functionality, it motivates me to be more zen and to remember the nature beauty this little world has.
TADMOR, Zehev; GOGOS, Costas G.. Principles of polymer processing. 2 ed. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 2006. xvi, 961 p. Inclui bibliografia (ao final de cada capítulo) e índice; il. tab. quad. graf.; 26x18cm. ISBN 0471387703.
Palavras-chave: POLIMEROS; ENGENHARIA QUIMICA.
CDU 678.7 / T121p / 2 ed. / 2006
Principles for Latino Digital Success. Mike Valdes-Fauli, Hector Mujica, Juan Otero, Amanda Renteria, Priscilla Delgado Argeris, and Amanda Bergson-Shilcock.
Using the principles of symmetry (among other things) to deliver an egg safely to the ground. Fingers crossed for a eggcellent delivery tomorrow.
Pattern and Symmetry
112/366
I had the honour to shoot Aleks, Tina and Hanna while doing some areal acro on a beautiful sandy beach in Thailand's little paradise called Koh Phangan.
Principles for Latino Digital Success. Mike Valdes-Fauli, Hector Mujica, Juan Otero, Amanda Renteria, Priscilla Delgado Argeris, and Amanda Bergson-Shilcock.
2019 Women's Empowerment Principles Forum
Thursday, 14 March 2019
ECOSOC Chamber, United Nations Headquarters, New York, New York
Photo credit: UN Global Compact/Chae Khin for Joel Sheakoski Photography
I had the honour to shoot Aleks, Tina and Hanna while doing some areal acro on a beautiful sandy beach in Thailand's little paradise called Koh Phangan.
From the exhibition Museum Files I: Collected Principles, 19.6.-17.7.2011, Contemporary Art Museum of Estonia, Tallinn
The world has an unprecedented number of connected devices. Internet of Things, mobile devices and traditional computers are increasing the demand on on-line services. Both the number of concurrent service requests and the time take to service each request characterizes “High Load”. Peter will present the computing principles that effect “High Load” and how they have been pragmatically applied within the architecture of the Aerospike Database.
www.cagnz.org/be-quiet-before-God.html
3 Principles Help You Be Quiet Before God
By Zhixin
Sister Kemu,
Hello! Every day I bustle about, being busy with my work and serving in the church as well as taking care of my family. So every day I find myself occupied with these things. Although I’ve dealt with many things, my heart is always empty. Not only do I have nothing to say to the Lord while praying to Him, but I become dry and barren in spirit. Besides this, I find it difficult to quiet my heart while reading the Bible, as my heart is always occupied with these external matters. For this reason, I feel rather upset and have no idea how to resolve this difficulty.
Zhuiqiu
Hello Sister Zhuiqiu,
The difficulty you have exists among most brothers and sisters. So why does our relationship with the Lord become abnormal when we are busy? The main reason is that we don’t know how to quiet our heart before God when our heart is always occupied with other matters. If we can understand and grasp the principles in practicing how to calm ourselves before God in all things, then whatever circumstances we encounter we can live in His presence, with peace and joy in our heart. Then we won’t feel so troubled and depressed.
Today, let’s explore this together: What is being quiet before God? And what is the path to practice it?
First, what does being quiet before God mean?
The words of God say: “Being at peace before God does not mean not cooking or doing chores, or not living one’s life; rather, it is being able to quiet one’s heart before God in all normal states, and to have a place for God in one’s heart. When you pray, you should kneel down properly before God to pray; when you do chores or prepare food, quiet your heart before God, ponder God’s words, or sing hymns. No matter what situation you find yourself in, you should have your own way to practice, you should do everything you can to draw close to God, and you should try with all your might to quiet your heart before God. When circumstances permit, pray single-mindedly; when circumstances do not permit, draw near to God in your heart while doing the task at hand. When you can eat and drink God’s words, then eat and drink His words; when you can pray, then pray; when you can contemplate God, then contemplate Him. In other words, do your utmost to train yourself for entry according to your environment.” It can be seen from God’s words that being quiet before God means always keeping our heart before God, genuinely praying to and interacting with Him, normally getting close to Him and not keeping away from Him. In other words, no matter what we’re busy with, our heart shouldn’t be occupied by these external things. Rather, we should practice getting close to the Lord in our heart, pondering His words and contemplating His love. Then, we can live before the Lord. However, it doesn’t mean that we do nothing but think about God in our heart. What really matters is that we can practice quieting our heart before God in our daily life. If we train and practice like this, we’ll always be moved by the Holy Spirit and have the way to practice for the matters and difficulties in our daily life. And then no matter how busy we are, there will be peace and joy in our heart and we’ll no longer feel empty...
In many cases, we’re just satisfied with the outward formalities while reading the Bible, but pay no attention to pondering the words of the Lord. Without His words in our heart, in actual life we’ll have difficulty quieting ourselves before Him. As a matter of fact, every day when we read the Bible, we should ponder His words with a pure heart, pray and seek as much as we can in His words. When we practice like this, God will see that we have a heart of thirsting for the truth and then He will enlighten and guide us to understand His will. Thus, every day we can gain something new and unconsciously quiet our heart before God.
For instance, when reading the words of the Lord Jesus: “Truly I say to you, Whoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein” (Mark 10:15), we should try to figure this out: Why did the Lord Jesus say whoever does not become like a little child will not enter the kingdom of heaven? What is His intention in saying so? What are the specific manifestations of the likeness of a little child? And how should we practice to live out the likeness of a little child? When we bear this burden and pray to God and try over and over to figure out His words, God will enlighten us to understand the true meaning of these words. As for little children, they are innocent, simple and honest, and say whatever they want to say without any disguise and hiddenness. They neither tell lies nor deceive others when they speak. From their words, we can see their inner heart in which there is no insidiousness or craftiness, so we feel at ease when getting along with them, without any worry. If we fail to become like a little child, and instead, with our heart full of craftiness, we make deals with God in our service in order to gain blessings, the crown, and satisfy our own ambitions and desires, and our heart is full of these impurities, then we are not truly fulfilling our duty as a created being, but using God. How can such work and service gain God’s praise? When pondering over this, we can know the reason why God demands that we become like a little child. God likes the honest, for they are of one mind with Him, do not have rebellion and resistance and are compatible with Him. Only such people can enter into His kingdom, because God’s substance is holy, and He has no disposition of crookedness and craftiness. Those with Satan’s corrupt disposition won’t be allowed to enter into God’s kingdom, which is determined by His essence. Therefore, God wishes for us to all pursue the truth, to cast off these satanic corrupt dispositions and to live before Him like a little child who is simple and lively. Only in this way can we receive the blessings of God. The more we ponder like this, the more we will understand the words of the Lord, and the more we know how to practice His words in our actual life. Then the relationship between the Lord and us will become closer and closer. This is also the outcome of quieting our heart before God.
Image Source: Daily Devotionals
Source from: Our Daily Devotionals
Building on the ‘Ecosystem Landscaping to advance the Accountability to implement the Women’s Empowerment Principles in ASEAN’, the WeEmpowerAsia programme, UN women jointly develops and will disseminate the Building Pathways to Gender Equality and Sustainability through the Women's Empowerment Principles: Thailand Policy Brief (hereafter referred as ‘Thailand Policy Brief’) with key partners, namely the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) and the Office of SMEs Promotion (OSMEP).
Gender Responsive Procurement (GRP) is one of the initiatives recommended in the Thailand Policy Brief. GRP can identify, incorporate and support women business owners seeking to access government/corporate procurement contracts. In support of the initiative, UN Women and Kenan Foundation Asia will host the “IDEA to I do”, a business presentation competition for selected women entrepreneurs, to showcase the capacity of WOB and WLB developed under WeEmpowerAsia Programme as means to promote women’s participation in supply chain. Winners will receive the WeRise Awards and the prizes are comprised of one winner, one first runner-up and one second runner-up.
Photo: UN Women/Daydream Organizer Co., Ltd.
2019 Women's Empowerment Principles Forum
Thursday, 14 March 2019
ECOSOC Chamber, United Nations Headquarters, New York, New York
Photo credit: UN Global Compact/Chae Khin for Joel Sheakoski Photography
The hopes built by the insurgents upon the general discontent throughout the country were doomed to disappointment. It was one thing to disapprove of the Queen’s choice; it was quite another to take up arms against her. Devonshire proved cold; most of the leaders there were seized, or compelled to make their escape to France; Crofts had been pursued to Wales, and was arrested before he had time to rally any support in the principality.
295Suffolk had done no better in the Midlands. Authorities are divided as to his intentions. By Dr. Lingard it is considered uncertain whether he meant to press Elizabeth’s claims or to revive those of his daughter. With either upon the throne the dominance of the Protestant religion would have been ensured, and, unlike Northumberland, Suffolk was sincere and honest in his attachment to the principles of the Reformation. Other writers, however, assert categorically that he caused Lady Jane to be proclaimed at his halting-places as he went north; and the sequel seems to make it probable that she had been once more forced into a position of dangerous prominence.
Whatever may have been the exact nature of the scheme he propounded, the country made no response to his appeal; after a skirmish near Coventry he gave up hopes of any immediate success, disbanded his followers, and, betrayed by a tenant upon whose fidelity he had believed he could count, fell into the hands of those in pursuit of him. By February 10 he had gone to swell the numbers of the prisoners in the Tower.
The rising in Kent had alone answered in any degree to the expectations of its promoters. Drawn into the conspiracy, if his own assertions are to be credited, by Courtenay, Wyatt had become the most conspicuous leader of the insurrection known by his name. He was well296 fitted for the post. Brave, skilful, and secret, he was, says Noailles, “un gentilhomme le plus vaillant et assuré que j’ai jamais ouï parler”; and whether or not he had been deserted by the man to whom it was due that he had taken up arms, he was not disposed to submit to defeat without a struggle.
Fixing his headquarters at Rochester, he had gathered together a body of some fifteen thousand men, and was there found by the Duke of Norfolk, sent at the head of the Queen’s forces against him. The utmost enthusiasm prevailed amongst the insurgents, and when a herald arrived in Rochester commissioned by the Duke to proclaim a pardon for all who would consent to lay down arms, “each man cried that they had done nothing wherefore they should need any pardon, and that quarrel which they took they would die and live in it.”211 Sir George Harper was in fact the sole rebel who accepted the proffered boon.
Worse was to follow. At the first encounter of the royal troops with the Kentish men Captain Bret, leading five hundred Londoners, went over to the rebels, explaining in a spirited speech the grounds for his desertion, the miseries which might be expected to befall the nation should the Spaniards bear rule over it, and expressing his determination to spend his blood “in the quarrel of this worthy captain, Master Wyatt.”212
297It was an ominous beginning to the struggle, and at the applause greeting Bret’s announcement, the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Ormond, and Jerningham, Captain of the Guard, fled. Wyatt, taking instant advantage of the situation, rode in amongst the Queen’s troops, crying out that any who desired to join him should be welcome and that those who wished might depart.
Most of the men accepted the alternative of throwing in their lot with Wyatt and his company, leaving their leaders to return without them to London. “Ye should have seen,” adds the diarist, from whom these details and many others of this episode are taken, “some of the Guard come home, their coats turned, all ruined, without arrows or string in their bow, or sword, in very strange wise; which discomfiture, like as it was very heart-sore and displeasing to the Queen and Council, even so it was almost no less joyous to the Londoners and most part of others.”
With the capital in this temper, the juncture was a critical one. Wyatt was marching on London, and who could say what reception he would meet with at the hands of the discontented populace? The fact that he was encountered at Deptford by a deputation from the Council, sent to inquire into his demands, is proof of the apprehensions entertained. The interview did not end amicably. Flushed with victory, Wyatt was not disposed to be moderate.298 To Sir Edward Hastings, who asked the reason why, calling himself a true subject, he played the part of a traitor, he answered boldly that he had assembled the people to defend the realm from the danger of being overrun by strangers, a result which must follow from the proposed marriage of the Queen.
Hastings temporised. No stranger was yet come who need be suspected. Therefore, if this was their only quarrel, the Queen would be content they should be heard.
“To that I yield,” returned Wyatt warily, “but for my further surety I would rather be trusted than trust.”
In carrying out this principle of caution it was reported that he had pressed his demand for confidence so far as to require that the custody of the Tower, and the Queen’s person within it, should be conceded to him. If this was the case, he can scarcely have felt much surprise that the negotiations were brought to an abrupt conclusion, Hastings replying hotly that before his traitorous conditions should be granted, Wyatt and twenty thousand with him should die. And thus the conference ended.213
London was in a ferment. Mayor, aldermen, and many of the citizens went about in armour, “the lawyers pleaded their causes in harness,” and when Dr. Weston said Mass before the Queen on299 Ash Wednesday he wore a coat of mail beneath his vestments. There had been no need to bid the Spanish ambassadors to depart, those gentlemen having prudently decamped as speedily as possible. Upon February 2 Mary in person proceeded to the Guildhall, and, there meeting the chief amongst the citizens, made them a speech which was an admirable combination of appeal and independence, and showed that if outwardly she bore no resemblance to father or sister the Tudor spirit was alive in her. She had come, she said, to tell them what they already knew—of the treason of the Kentish rebels, who demanded the possession of her person, the keeping of the Tower, and the placing and displacing of her counsellors.
That day marked the crisis in the progress of the insurrection. Mary’s visit to the Guildhall had taken place on February 2. When on the following day Wyatt, leaving Deptford, marched to Southwark the tide had turned. His followers were falling away; no other part of the country was in arms to support him; and his position was becoming desperate. His daring, nevertheless, did not fail. A price had been put upon his head, and, aware of the proclamation, he caused his name to be “fair written,” and set it on his cap. The act of bravado was characteristic of the spirit of the popular leader.
Meantime the measures to be taken against him300 were anxiously discussed. On the 4th Sir Nicholas Poynings, on duty at the Tower, waited upon the Queen to receive her orders, and to learn whether the ordnance was to be directed upon Southwark, and the houses knocked down upon the heads of Wyatt and his men, quartered in that district.
Mary, to her honour, refused to authorise the drastic mode of attack.
“Nay,” she replied, “that were pity; for many poor men and householders are like to be undone there and killed. For, God willing, they shall be fought with to-morrow.”
The innocent were not to be involved in the destruction of the guilty. Her decision was unwelcome at the Tower. The night before Sir John Bridges had expressed his surprise to the sentinel on duty that the rebels had not yet been fought.
“By God’s mother,” he added, “I fear there is some traitor abroad, that they be suffered all this while. For surely if it had been about my sentry [or beat] I would have fought with them myself, by God’s grace.”
Wyatt, strangely enough, was no less pitiful than the Queen. Although she had refused permission for the discharge of the guns, they had been directed by those responsible for them upon the spot where the rebel body was stationed; and, in terror of a cannonade, the inhabitants, men and women, approached the insurgent leader “in most lamentable301 wise,” setting forth the danger his presence was bringing upon them, and praying him for the love of God to have pity. The appeal was not made in vain.
“At which words he, being partly abashed, stayed awhile, and then said these, or much like words, ‘I pray you, my friends, content yourselves a little, and I will soon ease you of this mischief. For God forbid that you, or the least child here, should be hurt or killed on my behalf,’ and so in most speedy manner marched away.”
A meeting was to have taken place before sunrise with some of the disaffected in the City. By this means it had been hoped that a surprise might be contrived. But a portion of Kingston Bridge, where the river was to be crossed, had been destroyed; time was lost in repairing it, and the assignation at Ludgate was missed. The scheme had supplied Wyatt’s last chance and failure was staring him in the face. Rats were leaving the sinking vessel. The Protestant Bishop of Winchester, who had hitherto lent the countenance of his presence in the camp to the insurgents, fled beyond seas; Sir George Harper, having rejoined Wyatt’s forces, deserted for the second time, and made his way to St. James’s to give warning to the Court of the approach of the rebel leader.
Such being the condition of things, it is singular to find that at the palace something like a panic302 was prevailing. Mary was entreated by her ministers to seek safety at the Tower; and, though deciding in the end to remain at her post, she appears at first to have been inclined to act upon the suggestion. A plan of action was determined upon in a hurried consultation. Wyatt, it was agreed, was to be permitted to reach the City, with a certain number of his followers, and having been thus detached from the main body of his troops it was hoped that he would be trapped and seized.
In the meantime arrangements were made for the defence of the Queen and the palace. Edward Underhyll, the Hot-Gospeller for whose child Lady Jane had stood godmother six months earlier, and who was on duty as a gentleman-pensioner at St. James’s, has left a graphic account of the scene there that night, and of the terror of the Queen’s ladies when the pensioners, armed with pole-axes, were placed on guard in their mistress’s apartments. The breach of etiquette appears to have struck them as an earnest of the peril to which it was owing. Was such a sight ever seen, they cried, wringing their hands, that the Queen’s chamber should be full of armed men?
Underhyll, for his part, soon received his dismissal. As the usher charged with the duty looked at the list of the pensioners before calling them over, his eye was caught by the well-known name of the Hot-Gospeller.
303“By God’s Body,” he said, “that heretic shall not watch here!” and Underhyll, taking his men with him, and professing satisfaction at his exemption from duty, went his way.
By the morning he had reconsidered the matter, and thought it well to ignore his rebuff and return to his post. For the present, he joined company with one of the Throckmortons, who had just left the palace after reporting there the welcome tidings of the capture of the Duke of Suffolk at Coventry, the two proceeding together to Ludgate, intending to pass the remainder of the night in the City. The gate, however, was found to be fast locked, and those on guard within explained, with much ill-timed laughter, to the tired wayfarers outside, that they were not entrusted with the keys, and could give admittance to none.
It was disconcerting intelligence to men in search of a lodging and repose; and Throckmorton, in especial, fresh from his hurried journey, felt that he was hardly treated.
“I am weary and faint,” he complained, “and I wax now cold.” No man would open his door in this dangerous time, and he would perish that night. Such was his piteous lament.
Underhyll, a man of resource, had a plan to propose.
“Let us go to Newgate,” he suggested. He thought himself secure of an entrance there into304 the city. At the worst, he had acquaintances within the prison—like most men at that day—having recently been in confinement there. The door of the keeper of the gaol was without the gate, and Underhyll entertained no doubts of finding a hospitable reception in his old quarters. Throckmorton, it was true, declared at first that he would almost as soon die in the street as seek so ill-omened a refuge; but in the end the two proceeded thither, and, a friend of Underhyll’s being fortunately in command of the guard placed outside the gate, the wanderers were permitted to enter the City.
Whilst consternation and alarm were felt at the palace at the tidings of Wyatt’s approach, the rebel leader himself must have been aware that the game had been played and lost. Yet he kept up a bold front, and refused to acknowledge that he was beaten.
“Twice have I knocked, and not been suffered to enter,” he was reported to have said. “If I knock the third time I will come in, by God’s grace.”
They were brave words. An incident of his march to Kingston nevertheless sounds the note of a consciousness of impending defeat. Meeting, as he went, a merchant of London who was known to him, he charged him with a greeting to his fellow-citizens. “And say unto them from me that when liberty and freedom was offered them they would not accept305 it, neither would they admit me within their gates, who for their freedom and the disburthening of their griefs and oppression by strangers would have frankly spent my blood in that their cause and quarrel; ... therefore they are the less to be bemoaned hereafter when the miserable tyranny of strangers shall oppress them.”
It may be that by some amongst the men to whom the message was sent his words were remembered thereafter.
Still the insurgents pushed on. By nine in the morning Knightsbridge was reached. Disheartened, weary, and faint for lack of food, they were in no condition to stand against the Queen’s troops. But the mere fact of their vicinity was disquieting to those in no position to form a correct estimate of their strength or weakness, and when Underhyll returned to the palace he found confusion and turmoil there.
His men were stationed in the hall, which was to be their special charge. Sir John Gage, with part of the guard, was placed outside the gate, the rest of the guard were within the great courtyard; the Queen occupying the gallery by the gatehouse, whence she could watch what should befall.
This was the disposition of the defenders, when suddenly a body of the rebels made their way to the very gates of the palace. A struggle took place; Gage and three of the judges who had been with306 him retreated hurriedly within the gates, Sir John, who was old, stumbling in his haste and falling in the mire. Within all was in disorder. The gates had clanged to behind Gage, his soldiers, and the men of law, as they gained the shelter of the courtyard. Without the rebels were using their bows and arrows. The guard stationed in the outer court, attempting to make good their entrance to the hall, were forcibly ejected by the gentlemen pensioners in charge of it. Poor Gage—“so frighted that he could not speak to us”—and the three judges, also in such terror that force would have been necessary to keep them out, were alone admitted to the comparative safety it afforded.
There was in truth little reason for alarm. The manœuvre decided upon during the night had been executed. The Queen’s troops, Pembroke at their head, had deliberately permitted Wyatt to break through their lines, and, with some hundreds of his men, to proceed eastward. Behind him the enemy had closed up, and he was separated from the main body of the rebels, thus left leaderless to be engaged by the royal forces. The Queen’s orders had been successfully carried out. But to the anxious watchers in the palace the affair may have worn the aspect of a defeat, if not of a treason, and there were not wanting those who suspected Pembroke of a betrayal of his trust. A shout was raised that all was lost.
307“Away, away! a barge, a barge!—let the Queen be placed in safety!” was the cry.
Again Mary was to show that she was a Tudor. She would not beat a retreat before rebels. Where, she inquired, was the Earl of Pembroke? and receiving the answer that he was in the field, “Well then,” she said, “fall to prayer, and I warrant you that we shall have better news anon, for my lord will not deceive me, I know well. If he would, God will not, in Whom my chief trust is, Who will not deceive me.”
Though it was well to have confidence in God, men with arms in their hands would have liked to use them, and the pensioners entreated Sir Richard Southwell, in authority within the palace, to have the gates opened that they might try a fall with the enemy; else, they threatened, they would break them down. It was too much shame that the doors should be shut upon a few rebels.
Southwell was quite of the same mind; and, interceding with Mary, obtained her leave for the pensioners to have their way, provided they would not go out of her sight, since her trust was in them—a command she reiterated as, the gates being thrown open, the band marched under the gallery, where she still kept her place. It was not long before her confidence in the commander of the royal troops was justified, and news was brought that put an end to all fear. Wyatt was taken.
308At the head of that body of his men who had been allowed to clear the enemy’s lines, he had ridden on towards the City, had passed Temple Bar and Fleet Street, till Ludgate was reached. There he halted. He had kept his tryst, fulfilled the pledge he had given, and knocked, as he had promised, at the gate. Let them open to him; Wyatt was there—successful so long, he may have thought there was magic in the name—Wyatt was there; the Queen had granted their requests.
The City remained unmoved; and, in terms of insult, Sir William Howard refused him entrance.
“Avaunt, traitor,” he said, barring the way, “thou shalt not come in here.”
It was the last blow. The poor chance that the City might have lent its aid had constituted the single remaining possibility of a retrieval of the fortunes of the insurrection. That vanished, the end was inevitable. London had blustered, had expressed its detestation for the Spanish match, had paraded its Protestantism; it was now plain that it had not meant business, and the man who had taken it at its word was doomed.
A strange little scene followed—a scene forming an interlude, as it were, in the tumult and excitement of the hour. It may be that the effects of the strain and fatigue of the last weeks, of the hopes and fears that had filled them, of the march of the night before, unlightened by any genuine309 anticipation of victory, were suddenly felt by the man who had borne the burden and heat of the day. At any rate, turning without further parley, he made his way back to the Bel Savage Inn, and there “awhile stayed, and, as some say, rested him upon a seat.” Sitting there, trapped by his enemies, in “the shirt of mail, with sleeves very fair, velvet cassock, and the fair hat of velvet with broad bone-work lace” he had worn that day, he may have looked on and seen the future bounded by a scaffold. Then, rousing himself, he rose, and returned by the way he had come, until Temple Bar was reached.
Though the combat was there renewed, all must have known that further resistance was vain, and at length, yielding to a remonstrance at the shedding of useless blood, Wyatt consented to acknowledge his defeat and to yield himself a prisoner to Sir Maurice Berkeley. He had fought the battle of many men who had taken no weapon in hand to support him. When false hopes had at one time been entertained of his success “many hollow hearts rejoiced in London at the same.” But scant sympathy will have been shown to the vanquished.
It remained to consign the captives to the universal house of detention. By five o’clock in the afternoon, as the spring day was closing in, Wyatt and five of his comrades had been conducted to the Tower by Jerningham. They arrived by310 water, and were met at the bulwark by Sir Philip Denny, who greeted the prisoners with words of fierce upbraiding.
“Go, traitor,” he said, as Wyatt passed by, “there was never such a traitor in England.”
Wyatt turned upon him.
“I am no traitor,” he answered. “I would thou should well know thou art more traitor than I; and it is not the part of an honest man to call me so.”
He was right; but courtesy to the defeated was no article of the code of the day. At the Tower Gate Sir John Bridges, the Lieutenant, stood, likewise ready to receive and to revile his prisoners. To each in turn he addressed some varied form of abuse, taking Wyatt, who came last, by the collar “in very rigorous manner,” and shaking him.
“‘Thou villain and unhappy traitor,’ he cried, ... ‘if it were not that the law must justly pass upon thee, I would strike thee through with my dagger.’
“To whom Wyatt made no answer, but, holding his arms under his side, and looking grievously with a grim look upon the said Lieutenant, said, ‘It is no mastery now,’ and so they passed on.”
Thus ended Wyatt’s rebellion. Together with her father’s treason, it had sealed Lady Jane’s fate, and that of the boy-husband who shared her captivity.
311
CHAPTER XXIII
1554Lady Jane and her husband doomed—Her dispute with Feckenham—Gardiner’s sermon—Farewell messages—Last hours—Guilford Dudley’s execution—Lady Jane’s death.
THOSE anxious days when the fortunes of England and its Queen appeared once more to hang in the balance had sealed the fate of the prisoners in the Tower. They must die. Mary had been warned that the clemency shown to her little cousin was unwise; she had struggled against the counsellors who had striven to convince her that the usurper, so long as she lived, was a menace to the peace of the realm, and the stability of her government. Their warnings had been justified, and Jane must pay the penalty.
What was to be done was to be done quickly. It was perhaps feared that, with leisure to reconsider the matter, the Queen would even now retract her consent to deliver up the victim; nor was there any excuse for delay. The boy and girl already lay under sentence of death; it was only necessary to carry it into effect. So far as this life was concerned Lady Jane’s doom was fixed.
312It remained to take thought for her soul. With death staring them in the face, many had been lately found willing to conform their faith to the Queen’s. Why should it not be so with the Queen’s cousin? To compass this object Mary’s chaplain, Dr. Feckenham, the new Dean of St. Paul’s, was sent to plead with the captive, and to strive to reconcile her with God and the Church before she went hence.
The ambassador was well chosen. Learned and devout, he had been bred a Benedictine, and had, under Henry VIII., suffered imprisonment on account of his faith; until Sir Philip Hoby, in his own words, “borrowed him of the Tower.” Since then it had been his habit to hold disputations, “earnest yet modest,” according to Fuller, in defence of his religion, and was honoured by Mary and Elizabeth alike. This was the man to whom was entrusted the difficult task of convincing Lady Jane of her errors. It was scarcely to be anticipated that he would succeed, but he seems to have performed the thankless duty laid upon him with gentleness and good feeling.
Arrived at the Tower—his whilom place of captivity—Feckenham, after some preliminary courtesies, disclosed the object of his visit, adding certain persuasive arguments, to which the prisoner made reply that he had delayed too long, and time was over-short to allow her to give attention to these matters. The answer, in whatever sense it313 was meant, was sufficiently ambiguous to afford a sanguine and anxious man grounds for hope that, with leisure for discussion, he might win a favourable hearing; considering his proposed convert “in very good dispositions,” he went to seek the Queen; and, describing his interview, had no difficulty in inducing her to grant a three-days’ reprieve. Friday, February 9, had been at first appointed for the execution, and when—for reasons undisclosed to the public—it was deferred until the following Monday, the change may have given rise in some quarters to expectations unwarranted by the event. There were those determined to hold Mary to her purpose.
On Sunday, the 11th, Gardiner preached before the Queen, dealing first with the doctrine of free will; secondly, with the institution of Lent; thirdly, with the necessity of good works; and fourthly, with Protestant errors. After which he came to the practical question in all men’s minds. He asked a boon of the Queen’s Highness—that, like as she had beforetime extended her mercy, particularly and privately, so through her lenity and gentleness much conspiracy and open rebellion were grown, according to the proverb, nimia familiaritas parit contemptum, which he brought in for the purpose that she would now be merciful to the body of the Commonwealth and conservation thereof, which could not be unless the rotten and314 hurtful members thereof were cut off and consumed. “And thus he ended soon after, whereby all the audience did gather there should shortly follow sharp and cruel execution.”214
Whether or not Gardiner’s discourse was directed against a tendency to waver in her intention on the part of his mistress, it was proved that there was nothing in that direction to be apprehended. Meantime, armed with the boon he had obtained, Feckenham had returned to the Tower, to beg the captive to make use of the reprieve for the salvation of her soul.
Lady Jane’s reply was not encouraging. She had not, she told him, intended her words to be repeated to the Queen; she had already abandoned worldly things, had no thought of fear, and was prepared to meet death patiently in whatsoever form might please the Queen. To the flesh it was indeed painful, but her soul was joyful at quitting this darkness, and rising, as by God’s mercy she hoped to rise, to eternal light.215
It was not to be expected that the priest, a good man, full of zeal for his religion and of solicitude for the dying culprit, would consent to relinquish, without an effort, the attempt to utilise the respite he had been granted. Of what followed accounts vary, according to the theological proclivities315 of the narrator of the scene, an early pamphlet asserting that Feckenham, finding himself, in reasoning, “in all holy gifts so short of [Lady Jane’s] excellence that he acknowledged himself fitter to be her disciple than teacher, thereupon humbly besought her to deliver unto him some brief sum of her faith which he might hereafter keep, and as a faithful witness publish to the world; to which she willingly condescended, and bade him boldly question her in what points of religion soever it pleased him.”216
The attitude ascribed to Queen Mary’s chaplain would seem more likely to be due to imagination than to fact. It appears, however, that a species of “catechising argument” did in truth take place in the presence of witnesses, an account of which was set down in writing, and received Lady Jane’s signature. The only result of the discussion was the strengthening rather than shaking of her convictions; and though it was not until she stood upon the scaffold that the last farewells of the disputants were taken, Feckenham must soon have been aware that his efforts would be made in vain. It may be hoped that to the imagination of the chronicler is again to be ascribed the manner of the parting of the two on this first occasion, when, feeling himself to be worsted in argument, Feckenham is said to have “grown into316 a little choler,” and used language unsuitable to his gravity, received with smiles and patience by the cause of his irritation. It is further stated that to a final speech of her visitor, to the effect that he was sorry for her obstinacy, and was certain that they would meet no more, Lady Jane, not altogether with the meekness attributed to her, retorted that his words were indeed most true, since, unless he should repent, he was in a sad and desperate case, and she prayed God that, as He had given him His great gift of utterance, He might open his heart to His truth.217
So the days passed, and the fatal one was at hand. On Saturday, February 10, the Duke of Suffolk, with his brother, Lord John Grey, had been brought prisoners to the Tower; but it does not appear that any meeting took place between father and daughter, and Lady Jane’s leave-taking was made in writing; sentences of farewell being inscribed by her and her husband in a manual of prayers belonging, as is conjectured, to the Lieutenant of the Tower, and used by her on the scaffold. In this volume three sentences were written.
“Your loving and obedient son,” wrote Guilford, “wisheth unto your Grace long life in this world,317 with as much joy and comfort as ever I wished to myself, and in the world to come joy everlasting.
G. DUDDELEY.”
Jane’s farewell followed:
“The Lord comfort your Grace, and that in His word wherein all creatures only are to be comforted. And though it has pleased God to take away two of your children, yet think not, I most humbly beseech your Grace, that you have lost them, but trust that we, by leaving this mortal life, have won an immortal life. And I, for my part, as I have honoured your Grace in this life, will pray for you in another life.
“Your Grace’s humble daughter,
“JANE DUDDELEY.”
The same book bears another inscription addressed to the Lieutenant of the Tower, Bridges, apparently at his own request.
“Forasmuch as you have desired,” Jane wrote, “so simple a woman to write in so worthy a book, good Master Lieutenant, therefore I shall as a friend desire you, and as a Christian require you, to call upon God to incline your heart to His laws, to quicken you in His way, and not to take the word of truth utterly out of your mouth. Live still to die, that by death you may purchase eternal life, and remember the end of Methuselah, who, as318 we read in the Scriptures, was the longest liver that was of a man, died at the last; for as the preacher saith, there is a time to be born and a time to die, and the day of death is better than the day of our birth. Yours, as the Lord knoweth, as a friend,
“JANE DUDDELEY.”
Such an admonition to the Lieutenant, written when death was very near, is characteristic. It was ever Lady Jane’s custom to use her pen, and the habit clung to her. Tradition asserts that three sentences, the one in Greek, the other in Latin, and the third in English, were written by her in yet another book; and though it has been argued that she would have been in no condition to compose epigrams in the dead languages at a moment when death was staring her in the face, there is nothing improbable in the story, unsupported as it is by evidence. As a man lives, he dies; and Jane had been a scholar and a moralist from her cradle.
“If justice dwells in my body”—thus the sentences are said to have run—“my soul will receive it from the mercy of God.—Death will pay the penalty of my fault, but my soul will be justified before the Face of God.—If my fault merited chastisement, my youth, at least, and my imprudence, deserved excuse. God and posterity will show me grace.”
319A letter of exhortation addressed to her sister Katherine likewise remains, another proof of her desire to impress upon others the lessons life had taught her. Having been reading, the night before her death, in “a fair New Testament in Greek,” she found, on closing it, some few leaves of clean paper, unwritten, at the end of the volume, and made use of them to convey her final farewell to the sister she was leaving behind, giving it in charge to her servant as a token of love and remembrance. As might have been expected, with the thought of the morrow before her, death was the recurrent burden of her theme. “Live still to die,” she told little Katherine, as she had told the Lieutenant of the Tower, “and that by death you may purchase eternal life; and trust not that the tenderness of your age shall lengthen your life ... for as soon will the Lord be glorified in the young as in the old.... Once more let me entreat thee to learn to die.... Desire with St. Paul to be dissolved and to be with Christ, with whom even in death there is life.... As touching my death, rejoice as I do ... that I shall be delivered of this corruption and put on incorruption; for I am assured that I shall, for losing of a mortal life, win one that is immortal, joyful, and everlasting.”
Another composition is extant, said to belong to this last period, and showing the writer, it320 may be, in a more pathetic light than that thrown upon her by disputes with controversialists, or exhortations to those she left behind. This is a prayer, exhibiting not so much the premature woman as the child—a child, it is true, facing death with steadfast faith and resignation, but nevertheless frightened, unhappy, “unquieted with troubles, wrapped in cares, overwhelmed with miseries, vexed with temptations ... craving Thy mercy and help, without the which so little hope of deliverance is left that I may utterly despair of my liberty.”218
Of liberty it was, in truth, time to despair. It is said that for two hours on this last night two bishops, with other divines, made a vain attempt to accomplish the conversion that Feckenham had failed to effect218; after which we may hope that, worn out and exhausted, the prisoner forgot her troubles in sleep. And so the night passed away.
In another part of the great fortress young Guilford Dudley was also preparing for the end. It is said219 that, “desiring to give his wife the last kisses and embraces,” he begged for an interview, but that she refused the request—not disallowed by Mary—replying that, could sight have given souls comfort, she would have been very willing; that since it would only increase the misery of each, and bring greater grief, it would be best to put off321 their meeting, since soon they would see each other in another place and live joined for ever by an indissoluble tie. If the story is true, there is something a little inhuman—or perhaps only belonging to the coldness of a child—in the wisdom which, at that moment, could weigh and balance the disadvantages of a leave-taking and refuse it. It is not, however, out of character.
It had been at first intended that the two should suffer together on Tower Hill. Fearing the effect upon the populace, the order was cancelled, and it was decided that, whilst Guilford’s execution should take place as originally arranged, Lady Jane should meet her death within the precincts of the Tower itself. As the lad, led to his doom, passed below her window, the two looked upon each other for the last time. Young Dudley met the end bravely. Taking Sir Anthony Browne, John Throckmorton and others by the hand, he asked their prayers; then, attended by no priest or minister, he knelt to pray, “holding up his eyes and hands to God many times,” before the executioner did his work and he went to join the father who was responsible for his fate, “bewailed with lamentable tears” even by those of the spectators who till that day had never seen him.220
A ghastly incident, variously recorded, followed. His body thrown into a cart, and his head wrapped322 in a cloth, he was brought into the Tower chapel, where Lady Jane, having probably left her apartments on her way to her own place of execution, encountered the cart and those in charge of it, seeing the husband who had passed beneath her window a few minutes earlier living, taken from it a corpse—a sight to her, says the chronicler, no less than death. It “a little startled her,” observes another narrator, “and many tears were seen to descend and fall upon her cheeks, which her silence and great heart soon dried.”221 According to a third account, she addressed the dead.
“Oh, Guilford, Guilford,” she is made to exclaim, “the antepast that you have tasted and I shall soon taste, is not so bitter as to make my flesh tremble; for all this is nothing to the feast that you and I shall partake this day in Paradise.”
It had been ten o’clock when Guilford had left his prison. By the time that the first act of the tragedy was over, a scaffold had been erected upon the green over against the White Tower, and led by the Lieutenant, the chief victim was brought forth, “her countenance nothing abashed, neither her eyes moisted with tears,”222 as she moved onwards, a book in her hand—the same she gave afterwards to Sir John Bridges—from which she prayed all323 the way until the scaffold was reached. With her were her two gentlewomen, Elizabeth Tylney and Eleyn, who both “wonderfully wept” as they accompanied their mistress; and Feckenham was also present, her kindly opponent, perhaps even now hoping against hope that success might crown his efforts. As the two stood together at the place of execution, she took him by the hand, and, embracing him, bade him leave her—desiring, it may be, to spare him the sight of what was to follow. Might God our Lord, she said, give him all his desires; she was grateful for his company, although it had given her more disquiet than, now, the fear of death.223
Like most of her fellow-sufferers she had come prepared with a speech. That her sentence was lawful she admitted, but reasserted the absence on her part of any desire for her elevation to the throne, “touching the procurement and desire thereof by me or my half, I do wash my hands in innocency before God and the face of you, good Christian people, this day,” and therewith she wrung her hands, in which she had her book; proceeding to make confession of the faith in which she died, owning that she had neglected the word of God, and loved herself and the world, and thereby merited her punishment. “And yet I thank God that He hath thus given me time and respite to324 repent. And now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you to assist me with your prayers.”
After this, kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham, who had not availed himself of her suggestion that he should leave her.
“Shall I say this psalm?” she asked him; and on his assenting repeated the Miserere in English, before, rising again, she prepared for the end, giving her book to Bridges, brother to the Lieutenant, who stood by, and her gloves and handkerchief to one of her ladies. With her own hands she untied her gown, rejecting the aid of the executioner, and, turning to her maids for assistance, removed her “frose paast”—probably some kind of head-dress—let down her hair, throwing it over her eyes, and knit a “fair handkerchief” about them.
After kneeling for her forgiveness, the executioner directed her to take her place on the straw.
“Then she said,
“‘I pray you despatch me quickly.’
“Then she kneeled down, saying,
“‘Will you take it off before I lay me down?’
“And the hangman answered her,
“‘No, madame.’”
The handkerchief was bound about her eyes, blinding her.
“What shall I do?” she said, feeling for the block. “Where is it?”
Then, as some one standing near guided her,325 she laid down her head, and saying, “Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit,” met the blow of the executioner.
Thus died Lady Jane Grey, most guiltless of traitors; who, to quote Fuller’s panegyric, possessed, at sixteen, the innocency of childhood, the beauty of youth, the solidity of middle, and the gravity of old, age; who had had the birth of a princess, the learning of a clerk, the life of a saint, and the death of a malefactor.
From LADY JANE GREY AND HER TIMES By I. A. TAYLOR
Author of “Queen Hortense and her Friends”
“Queen Henrietta Maria,” etc.
WITH SEVENTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS
London: HUTCHINSON & CO.
Paternoster Row 1908
Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.
FOOTNOTES
1 Hall’s Chronicle.
2 Martin Hume, The Wives of Henry VIII., p. 447.
3 Ellis’s Original Letters, Series III., vol. iii., p. 203.
4 Grey Friar’s Chronicle (Camden Society), p. 44.
5 Martin Hume, Wives of Henry VIII., p. 344.
6 Holinshed.
7 Strype’s Memorials of Archbishop Cranmer.
8 Hall’s Chronicle.
9 Spanish Chronicle of Henry VIII., translated by Martin Hume.
10 Hayward’s Life of Edward VI.
11 Sir H. Ellis, Original Letters.
12 Calendar, Henry VIII., vol. xviii., p. 1.
13 Speed.
14 Chronicle of Henry VIII., translated by Martin Hume.
15 Martin Hume, Wives of Henry VIII., p. 438.
16 Heylyn’s Reformation.
17 Heylyn’s Reformation.
18 Andrew Bloxam.
19 Calendar of State Papers (Venetian), p. 346.
20 It is stated in the Dictionary of National Biography that Lady Jane was attached to the Queen’s household in 1546, but I am unable to discover any proof of the fact. Speed, in his chronicle, makes two or three mentions of her, from which other biographers have concluded that she was in close attendance on Katherine Parr during the King’s lifetime. But it seems clear that he made a confusion between Lady Jane, the King’s great-niece, and Lady Lane, Katherine’s cousin, born Maud Parr, who was at that time a member of her household.
21 Naunton.
22 Foxe, Acts and Monuments.
23 Grey Friars’ Chronicle (Camden Society), p. 50.
24 G. Leti, Vie d’Elizabeth, Reine d’Angleterre, t. i., p. 153.
Principles of WRR 2006, triangle version OUTDATED + SCRAPPED.
For any form of publication, please include the link to this page:
This photo has been graciously provided to be used in the GRID-Arendal resources library by: Hugo Ahlenius, UNEP/GRID-Arendal