Bloody Tales of the Tower (2012) s01e01 Episode Script
Traitors
The Tower of London - mighty fortress and royal palace.
Infamous prison and place of execution.
William the Conqueror built it as his English stronghold 900 years ago.
Ever since, some of the biggest and most notorious names in England's history, from Anne Boleyn to Guy Fawkes have been jailed, tortured and put to death here.
Their stories are the stuff of myth and legend.
But the truth is even more extraordinary.
I'm Dr Suzannah Lipscomb, Tudor historian and author.
And I'm Joe Crowley, journalist and investigator.
Together we want to reveal the secret history of the Tower.
Hunting down evidence.
It's like a sweet shop for a historian.
Making some shocking discoveries.
That is quite incredible.
And coming to some very surprising conclusions.
Everyone's very sure that this was a complete stitch-up.
This must have been an inside job.
- Think you know the Tower of London? - Time to think again.
In this episode - executions.
We're investigating three of the Tower's most extraordinary killings.
There's the beheading of a king's son that turned horrifically messy.
I've just put it in the back of the head.
The mob execution of England's holiest man.
It wasn't a clean execution.
Seven or eight blows to finally sever the whole head.
And the tragic killing of a teenaged queen.
Jane was only 16.
She was hoping to live out her life as Queen.
All three were once amongst England's elite, and all three would lose their heads at the Tower.
It's the 15th July 1685.
Outside the Tower of London, executioner John Ketch is about to carry out one of the most memorable executions in English history.
The victim is wig-wearing dandy the Duke of Monmouth.
The illegitimate son of a king, who has just lead a failed rebellion to snatch the throne.
Today he faces the traditional noble's execution - beheading.
In theory, a cleaner, swifter death than hanging.
But in the hands of axe-man John Ketch, it will turn very messy.
The first blow barely grazes Monmouth.
Then, to the astonishment of a vast crowd, he rains down blow after blow without removing Monmouth's head.
So how did Ketch get his big moment so hideously wrong? OK, next up we've got a severely botched beheading.
So, you're saying the Tower of London might be no good at the thing it's most famous for? - Exactly.
Exactly.
- OK.
I'm going to look into how beheadings were carried out.
And if you could look into the executioner's tools - his axe.
The axe, OK.
By 1685, John Ketch had years of experience as hangman to London's common criminals.
But beheadings were different.
They were reserved for nobility and Ketch had only swung the axe once before.
On display at the Tower is the closest match we have to the tool Ketch used - a 400-year-old axe.
But was it fit for purpose? To find out, I just need to locate an axe maker.
Going back to the time of Monmouth's execution and I suppose there would be blacksmiths everywhere in the country, probably in every local parish.
These days, of course, that's not the case.
But we have managed to find a bladesmith - Owen Bush.
You've been to the Tower of London, you've seen the axe there.
I want your professional opinion.
What did you make of it? It's a massive axe and it's not strictly speaking an executioner's axe.
It's a woodworking axe.
It's been designed for getting in close to wood and shaving wood off.
It's very similar to an axe like this.
You can see you've got the blade along one side with the handle slightly offset and it's got a chisel edge on it.
Oh, so you're up against something quite close and you're just shaving stuff off.
There'd certainly be a skill to using it, if you were not going to use it as a woodworking axe.
This is a bit of a surprise.
Owen reckons the Tower's axe is more suited to doing a bit of woodwork than slicing off heads.
What would you have expected for an executioner's axe? I would have expected it to look somewhat like this.
The whole weight in the axe head is running through the middle of the blade.
And if you were to pick it up above your head and chop someone with it, it's not going to want to pull you off side.
But the one in the Tower is offset, and it's got a bit of a kink where the head is, so you've got an axe that has all its weight hanging off one side.
Were 17th-century executioners using an axe that simply wasn't up to the job? That's Owen's theory, but he knows the proof of the axe is in the chopping.
He's now going to make a replica of the axe from the Tower to see whether it was the fault of the axe, not the man wielding it.
On execution day, hangman Ketch wasn't just faced with an unfamiliar tool, he had to publicly slaughter a folk hero - the Duke of Monmouth.
Monmouth was the son of King Charles II, but he was illegitimate.
So when Charles died in 1685, the throne didn't pass to him, but to his uncle, King James II.
Monmouth was incensed, and planned a rebellion.
It would gain widespread popular support, but he could never convince the army to join his revolt.
In July 1685 Monmouth was captured and sent to the Tower.
There, James II decided to make an example of him with an execution in front of a vast London crowd.
To get a sense of the atmosphere that day, I've come to London's biggest stadium.
Today is Cup Final day, and 90,000 football fans have flocked to Wembley.
We have to imagine that the Duke of Monmouth's execution was a bit like this - a vast crowd gathering, food stalls being set up and lots of people being a bit rowdy, but also families, too.
Because as macabre as it might seem to us, this was a great event at which everybody gathered.
And like these football fans, many of the crowd at Monmouth's execution weren't just there to watch.
They were there to heckle, to shout and many were also just as partisan as this lot here.
Monmouth was immensely popular and had an army of fans.
The crowd was on his side and wanted his death to be as painless as possible.
For John Ketch the pressure was really on.
Ketch's first blow merely grazed Monmouth's head.
The second did make a slightly deeper gash, but the third failed to finish the job and Ketch bottled it.
God damn it, I can do no more.
My heart fails me.
The axe man had to be ordered to finish the job.
But two or three blows later Monmouth's head was still on and Ketch resorted to using a knife.
Standing at the heart of an enormous hostile crowd, Ketch must have experienced something akin to stage fright and I feel some sympathy for him.
As each blow failed to deliver a clean beheading, the hostility must have grown to the point that Ketch found it unbearable.
Was it this alone that explains Ketch's hideous failure? Back at the blacksmith's, blade-maker Owen is putting the finishing touches to his replica Tower of London axe.
Here's your axe.
Owen, that truly looks like the stuff of nightmares.
That's incredible! It would be a nightmare if it was your head on the block.
It's as close as I could get to the one in the Tower.
- It's got this kink in it.
- So it kinks round.
Yeah.
Time to put this axe to the test.
You want to have your opposite leg back.
OK.
And you're dropping as you cut, so the action is to come down.
Owen has challenged me to strike this reed matting between the two red lines.
Now, will I be as wayward as John Ketch? - So, I've lined it up.
- Gosh, this feels so odd.
And I've missed! You missed him.
You've just cut through his head.
I was genuinely going for between the red lines and I've just put it in the back of the head.
- I wonder if that's because of the offset.
- It is on that side, isn't it? I find it quite difficult to look down it because I'm looking down the pole and I came down on that side.
My axe would have crashed into Monmouth's skull, not sliced through his neck.
The weight and kink had a real impact on my aim and this seems a poor axe to behead someone with.
Ketch himself had to use a knife to remove Monmouth's head, which makes me think: Would a thinner blade have been preferable? 150 years previously, Henry VIII's second wife Anne Boleyn had also been sentenced to death by beheading.
But Anne was not killed by an axe.
Instead, Henry imported a French swordsman as executioner.
So let's see how beheading by sword compares.
Here to help me is sword instructor Dave Rawlings.
With an axe we're going to be impacting on something.
With this we're going to come clean through with one motion.
There's going to be no stopping.
So, hopefully, it's going to be very nice and, hopefully, merciful.
The evenly weighted sword should be more accurate, but will it have the power of the axe? Time, once again, to execute some reed matting.
Let's give it a go.
So, that's the blunt edge so I can just put that there.
- It came off in one.
- You did grand.
It doesn't look like the cleanest I don't know, actually.
What does the master think? I will put the sword to one side.
What's the expert opinion? There's a little bit of a turn.
You can see a curve in the cut.
But you haven't left anything frayed, you have cut through.
So hopefully it would be a good, clean kill.
It's not as flat as it could be, but reasonably so.
The sword does appear cleaner, more effective than the axe.
Luckily, this was the case for Anne Boleyn and her head was removed in one clean blow by her imported French swordsmen.
Something John Ketch very publicly failed to do.
Right now, the evidence suggests John Ketch faced a frightening situation with a sub-standard tool.
But there's one missing piece in this puzzle.
Ketch may have been a hangman, but he had carried out one other beheading in his career.
Incredibly, Ketch himself even published a pamphlet about it.
I'm going to look at a copy in the Institute of Historical Research in London.
It's called, for a start, The Apology Of John Ketch Esq, The Executioner Of London, in vindication of himself as to the execution of the late Lord Russell.
So immediately, the date tells us this is two years before Monmouth's execution.
And the purpose of writing it is, as he says here, to clear and vindicate himself as to the manner of my Lord Russell's execution.
So Ketch had form.
He'd botched his last beheading, too.
Lord Russell had also suffered a drawn-out butchering, and this is Ketch's comeback to widespread criticism.
And the first thing he says is, "There are several reports that have been raised, as namely, I was drinking the whole of the foregoing night and was in drink when I came upon the scaffold.
" Now, Ketch denies this entirely and says he went orderly to bed that night and wholly undisguised in drink.
The next thing he suggests is that it's actually Lord Russell's fault.
He did not dispose himself for receiving the fatal stroke in a posture as was most suitable.
Ketch is suggesting that the reason he messed up Lord Russell's execution was because Lord Russell moved his body.
It's quite obvious that Ketch has done this before.
He's just not very good at this, and he even has the temerity to blame it on the person he's trying to execute.
His axe may have been poor and his job tough, but Ketch utterly failed to learn from his past experience.
That he was even allowed to swing the axe again speaks volumes for the callous attitude of King James II's government.
320 of Monmouth's supporters went on to be sentenced to death by the King's enforcer, Judge Jeffreys whilst Ketch's savage blundering at the Tower would go down in folklore.
For more than a century, executioners in England were nicknamed John or Jack Ketch and mocked as cruel, bungling fools.
It's June 14th 1381.
Simon of Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury, is praying at St John's Chapel in the heart of the Tower of London.
et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen.
Simon is both leader of England's Church and the Lord Chancellor, a top politician in the government of teenage king Richard II.
Outside the Tower, a rebellion is raging - The Peasants'Revolt.
Tens of thousands of protesters have descended on London.
Within minutes, a mob will breach the Tower's incredible defences, snatch Sudbury from his chapel and tear him to pieces.
It is an utterly unique event.
In 900 years'of history, it's the only time the fortress has been breached.
So how did a rag-bag gang of peasants break into the country's toughest fortress? And in an era of God-fearing people, why did they seek out and execute the country's holiest man? Now, you've got to remember, this is an impenetrable fortress, end of.
It's just supposed to be superb.
So how on earth do a group of unruly, revolting peasants break in and pull Simon out? I want you to look at the security at the Tower and just where it was vulnerable, if at all.
I'm going to see what people really felt of Simon at the time and what motivated this mob to go in and attack him.
OK, sounds great.
The story starts with a popular uprising in Essex, in Kent, that grew to become one of the biggest rebellions in English history - the Peasants'Revolt.
But just what were these peasants so upset about? To find out, I've come to rain-soaked Cosmeston, a medieval village lovingly recreated on its old foundations by archaeologists like Nick Coles.
So, we talk about the Peasants' Revolt, but who were the peasants? What sort of people were they? All you're really talking about are rural folk from ones who really were grubbing around in the mud without two pennies to rub together, through to people like the reeve.
The reeve is almost like a village manager.
If he were a farmer nowadays, he would be the green welly, Range Rover type of farmer.
And you have everything in-between.
Some 30 years before the Peasants'Revolt, the Black Death had wiped out around half of England's population.
But ever since, the lives of peasants, rich and poor, had perked up.
Their labour was in higher demand, so wages rose and freedoms increased.
Then the government starts getting involved.
There's a bit of twitchiness over this freedom and the money that's going out.
So the first thing you get is a new law coming in from central government - and this new law is that wages must be the level they were at prior to the Black Death.
So whatever you're getting now, forget that.
It had to go back to that earlier amount.
This meddling by central government went down badly.
On top of that they kept raising one-off poll taxes to fund a war in France.
In 1380, the latest one-off tax was triple the original one.
So when the tax collectors turned up at a village like this they wouldn't have been the most popular visitors, would they? Initially, you're going to get people who are just refusing to pay tax.
The tax collectors go off, come back with a few strong-armed lads to have a word with them.
Then people start getting injured.
People start getting killed.
And this is where everything starts to kick off.
So it really does escalate, it builds a momentum.
It does.
And after these initial deaths amongst people trying to collect the taxes, you get the various villagers banding together, looking for someone to blame.
They're looking for someone to take their grievance to.
And those people are going to be in London.
Tens of thousands of protesters marched on the capital.
Bad news for Simon of Sudbury.
He's a target because he's the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The Church are land owners, they are seen as having huge amounts of wealth, but also he's the Lord Chancellor.
He's right up there at the top of government.
Sudbury and the young King retreat to the Tower, but as the army is tied up in France, there's no-one to disperse the mob.
Instead, the King agrees to meet the rebels for talks just outside London.
But many of the peasants stay behind in the capital and make straight for the Tower, where Simon of Sudbury is hiding out.
The Tower of London was designed from the start as a maximum security castle.
The central White Tower came first, begun in 1078.
Over the centuries a curtain wall, a moat, second curtain wall and barbican were added.
Until, by the time of the revolt in 1381, it looked like the mighty fortress we see today.
The peasants would have had to contend with massive defences to reach Sudbury in the heart of the Tower.
It just looks completely impregnable.
First of all, we've got this enormous tower.
There would have been a portcullis here and then you've got to get on through the gate.
So there's already two layers of defence.
This, of course, would be a moat - completely full of water.
And, of course, we've got all these arrow slits.
If I hadn't been shot already Look at the murder holes.
So it really was difficult to break through all these layers.
Having somehow forced their way inside the Tower complex, the job of the marauding peasant mob was far from done.
Next, they had to deal with the Tower's inner defences.
They've still got, somehow, to get through this extraordinary wall.
And look - another portcullis.
There would have been another set of doors here.
And if you'd actually managed to get through here, you'll just have rows and rows of archers on either side shooting at you.
With Sudbury holed up in the central White Tower, I just can't see how a peasant mob could have beaten the fortress for the only time in history, and got to their prey.
They must have had inside help.
This must have been an inside job.
There's no way they could have done it otherwise.
But just who would have betrayed the holiest man in England? It seems clear the peasants despised Sudbury because of the regime's unfair taxes, but now I want to discover what other enemies this archbishop had.
I'm heading to his home town to meet a local researcher who's spent three years exploring Simon's working life - Ian Copeman.
Ian, I know the reputation, but what about the man himself? Just how nasty was he, really? The exact opposite of nasty.
All my research seems to indicate that he was a lovely chap.
He gave his house over to become a college for priests.
He almost rebuilt the church here.
When he was Bishop of London, the Pope wanted to move him.
The people of London wrote to the Pope and said, "This guy is a good shepherd.
He is everything that we want in a leader.
He teaches us, he leads by example.
Please leave him here.
" Now, if you're a tyrant, if you're a despot, you don't get that sort of response.
Sudbury may have been hated by the peasants, but it sounds like in the capital he was revered, and his killing seems more mysterious than ever.
The best way to solve historical mysteries is usually to go back to the original sources.
And there's one particular contemporary account I want to look at.
The College of Arms in Central London holds the work of a monk named Thomas Walsingham.
But can he reveal the secret of the Tower's failure? So here it is.
It says there was a huge crowd of around 20,000 peasants and they'd set fire to some of the tall houses and shamelessly seized goods belonging to the King.
And they were driven to such a pitch of madness that the King, being in a very tight spot, allowed them to enter the Tower.
So there we go, that's the secret.
That's the mystery at the heart of it - the King allowed them in.
This account blames the King himself for betraying his archbishop - sacrificing Sudbury to sate the mob's rage.
You can imagine the Archbishop looking down on this and seeing the guards who were there to defend him just standing aside and letting this rampaging crowd rush through the Tower.
It must have just been absolutely terrifying for him.
And yet, it appears Sudbury was ready for his death.
It says here that the Archbishop was well aware of their plan and imminent arrival, and had spent the whole of the preceding night in making his confession and saying his holy prayers.
And then he berated their delay saying such things as, "When are they going to come? Good God, what are they waiting for?" God willing, it's already time for them to be here.
Could it be that Sudbury agreed to his fate, or even volunteered himself as a sacrificial lamb? We cannot know for certain, but I think the evidence is compelling.
Sudbury was sacrificed.
And it worked.
The peasants were pacified and King Richard II stayed on the throne for another 18 years.
And the Tower's defences didn't fail.
Instead the doors were simply flung open and the mob rushed in and tore the Archbishop of Canterbury apart like a pack of hyenas.
Back at the church in Sudbury that Simon helped build, Ian Copeman is unimpressed by this mob justice.
It wasn't a clean execution.
Seven or eight blows to finally sever the whole head.
His head was then taken up, placed on a pike and then his head disappeared.
It was stolen.
Do we know what happened to the head? If you'd like to come through here If you'd like to undo that little cubby hole.
A very odd hatch in the wall.
- So, it's not locked, is it? It's just - And you pull it down.
- And you wondered where Simon's head was.
- Oh, my goodness.
That is quite incredible.
It was taken down, it was brought to Sudbury and it was held in his College of Priests.
So, that would have been a loving gesture, to bring the head back? Yeah, they probably thought that this was going to be the last chance we're going to get.
We've got to save his head.
Today, Sudbury's severed head is a startling memento from a unique time in English history when a mob of peasants had the run of the Tower and slaughtered the holiest man in the country.
It's 12th February 1554.
At the Tower of London, a 16-year-old girl awaits her execution.
Good people, I am come hither to die.
This is Lady Jane Grey, and just months before, she was being proclaimed Queen of England.
But her cousin and rival Mary believed she had a better claim to the throne and within days had snatched the crown.
Now Mary has condemned her rival to death - the most infamous execution of a notoriously bloody reign.
But who was the rightful Queen? Well, this case is all about Lady Jane Grey.
The Queen for nine days, as she's called.
Famously, she's supposed to be the only monarch who was executed at the Tower.
OK, so remind me what's contentious about this one? Well, the clue's in the name.
She's called Lady Jane Grey, not Queen Jane.
So the question is, was she really queen at all? - Plenty to look into.
- Absolutely.
- OK.
Let's do it.
- Great.
Jane Grey's short life began around 1537.
She was raised in the idyllic surrounds of Bradgate House in Leicestershire.
Her family were leading nobles.
And her great uncle was the king - Henry VIII himself.
Here at Bradgate Park, Jane would grow into an attractive young woman.
Pretty and petite, she had auburn colour hair and fair, freckled skin.
But she was far from being just a pretty Tudor face.
She was bright and she was unusually well educated for a woman in the 16th century.
When one visitor called here in 1550, they found everyone out hunting, except the 14-year-old Jane.
Instead, she had stayed at home to study Plato in the original Greek.
Growing up here, bookworm Jane would have had no inkling as to her fate.
Henry VIII had three living children.
The prospect of his obscure great-niece claiming the throne would have seemed simply absurd.
Henry VIII was a man obsessed with who would succeed him.
It was one of the driving forces of a tumultuous love life which saw him behead two wives, divorce another two and somehow find time to turn England protestant.
So who did he want to succeed him? And where does Lady Jane Grey fit into the story? To find out, I've come to Britain's Parliamentary Archives in Westminster, because in 1543 Henry passed a law outlining who would rule next.
Very official language.
There's lots of I's dotted and T's crossed.
It says, actually, quite soon in, that it should go to the first son of his body and that's the noble and excellent prince - Prince Edward.
OK.
So, definitely goes to Henry's son Prince Edward, "Whom Almighty God long preserve.
" The five-year-old Edward was Henry's only legitimate son and the next in line.
But who should follow him? If he were to have no children, then the next in line would be the King's Highness daughter, Lady Mary.
Nowhere here, after Edward, does it mention Lady Jane Grey at all.
Mary is now Henry's choice after Edward, and this is startling.
Henry had previously declared his marriage to her mother, Catherine of Aragon, void and Mary a bastard.
Now Henry reinstates his eldest daughter Mary, a committed Catholic.
And Jane Grey is nowhere to be seen.
Henry VIII's extraordinary 38-year reign ended in 1547 and his young protestant son Edward succeeded him, with Mary in pole position to follow.
Lady Jane Grey was little more than another teenaged noble.
But in May 1553 things started to change for Jane Grey.
She came here to Durham House, which used to be on this very spot, for her wedding day.
She was marrying into the Dudleys - the best connected family in England.
Now young Jane was at the centre of power whether she wanted to be or not.
The timing was critical The 15-year-old King Edward VI was seriously ill and not expected to survive the year.
Now it was his turn to choose who should follow him.
I've come to Inner Temple Library, in the legal heart of London to see exactly what Edward decided.
I'm really excited about seeing this document because, actually, it is the boy king Edward's own writing, on his deathbed.
So, who did this dying teenager want to succeed him? Here we go.
Well, look at this.
It's in quite a childish hand, actually, and there's lots and lots of crossings out.
It starts: My device for the succession and then 'the lack of issue with my body'.
In other words, he hasn't produced any natural children.
'To the Lady Frances' heirs, male, if she have any.
' Edward has ignored his Catholic sister Mary and leapt across the family tree to the sons of his cousin - Lady Frances.
Unfortunately, Lady Frances didn't have sons, but she did have an eldest daughter- Lady Jane Grey.
And then this is the crucial bit.
Originally, it looks like he's written 'to the Lady Jane's heirs, male.
' Edward, at first, is very much just wanting to pass it on to boys, but then he must have figured out that he was dying and he has to provide for the occasion.
So it says Instead he's changed it to: Lady Jane and her heirs, male.
So first and foremost it goes to Lady Jane.
This document shows us Edward's working out of the whole thing, of him changing his mind, working out what he wanted to do and trying to deal with the situation.
Lady Jane Grey had been thrust from relative obscurity to suddenly take the place of Mary.
When told the news, Jane was reportedly stunned and deeply upset.
But she had little time to adjust.
Within a month, Edward was dead and England's nobles had offered Jane the crown.
Jane headed to the Tower, the traditional home of monarchs before their coronation at Westminster.
From there the reluctant 16-year-old queen wrote a poignant letter.
So, this starts: 'Jane the Queen.
' 'Trusty and well beloved, we greet you well.
By cause, we doubt not, but this the most lawful possession of the crown.
' So, in this very letter, Jane is saying that her possession of the crown is lawful.
Oh, brilliant.
I hadn't seen this before.
I was looking for the date.
We've got it here.
18th July in the first year of our reign.
It's quite sad, because in this one statement you've got the great hope for the future that she has.
And Jane was only 16.
She was hoping to live out her life as Queen.
Jane Grey's reign would be short-lived.
Just 13 days after taking the throne, Mary was marching through the gates of London to depose her.
To find out how Mary turned things around, I'm heading to the spot where she entered the city - Aldgate - to meet historian Anna Whitelock.
Mary, first of all, goes to Kenninghall in Norfolk and people start to flock to her.
And then, such is the swell of support, she moves to Framlingham in Suffolk.
And there's an amazing scene where all the local commons and gentry figures come outside the castle.
This is Mary rallying forces and saying, "Fight for me against this imposter in London.
" But before marching on the Tower, Mary embarks on a propaganda campaign, firing off letters to England's nobles.
She sort of says, "I hear a rumour that you're declaring for Lady Jane Grey.
That's got to be wrong because you know I'm the legitimate queen.
You might want to correct that little mistake and we'll all move on.
" Her whole campaign is based around legitimacy.
"I am Henry VIII's daughter.
Go back and look at the Rolls of Parliament, which you've seen.
It says there that I am the next legitimate heir to the throne.
" Mary's huge public support is decisive.
Almost overnight England's nobles go from supporting Jane to supporting Mary.
Lady Jane Grey, having been in this kind of palace in the Tower, suddenly, that becomes her prison.
- She doesn't know what's going on.
- No, that's one confused teenager.
Without leaving the Tower, Jane is transformed from Queen to prisoner, and her cousin Mary is now ruler of England.
We know what Henry VIII wanted.
We know what Edward wanted.
And from speaking to Anna, there's a sense that, actually, the people were behind Mary on this one.
That, ultimately, she was Henry's daughter.
That made her quite a familiar character, in many ways, almost a bit of a celeb.
The person that the public felt should really be the next queen.
Lady Jane Grey's fate wasn't sealed straight away.
Queen Mary kept her locked up in the Tower for seven months.
But eventually, it seemed she thought it was too risky to have her alive.
Whilst Jane was living, there was a clear threat to Mary's crown.
On 12th February 1554, Lady Jane Grey was lead to a scaffold erected on Tower Green within the walls of the Tower.
On her way to her own execution, she was said to have witnessed the recently decapitated body of her husband.
I am come hither to die.
I prey you dispatch me quickly.
Blind-folded, Jane reached in panic for the execution block found it and was beheaded cleanly.
Mary's rule would become infamous for slaughter.
In her five-year reign, 312 people accused of heresy were burnt at the stake or died in prison as Mary returned England to the Catholic Church.
That change was short-lived and instead, her legacy was to be forever branded 'Bloody Mary'.
Today, we remember her rival Jane as a tragic victim.
But shouldn't we also remember her as Queen Jane even though she was never crowned here at Westminster? Historian Chris Skidmore thinks so.
And the proof is right here in the Abbey.
If you look at the back of the wall, which is the tomb of the famous Princes in the Tower.
Oh, yes.
So, you've got Edward and his brother Richard.
But what I want you to look at is that first line where it says: Edward V, King of England.
It just goes to prove that Edward V didn't have a coronation but he's still considered Edward V, King of England.
Edward V had been locked in the Tower by his uncle and successor Richard III in 1483 and never seen again.
And he's not the only King Edward who was never crowned.
The other famous example is Edward VIII in 1936.
We regard him as Edward VIII, but he never had that coronation.
So even though Jane herself never had a coronation, I believe you can still regard her as Queen Jane.
So Jane's the Queen and Mary's just an upstart, illegitimate and a rebel, you're saying? Absolutely.
We've got two kings in history who weren't crowned and who were monarchs.
So Lady Jane Grey is another one of those.
We should call her Queen Jane.
We should remember her as a true Queen of England before Mary came along and seized her throne.
May 2017
Infamous prison and place of execution.
William the Conqueror built it as his English stronghold 900 years ago.
Ever since, some of the biggest and most notorious names in England's history, from Anne Boleyn to Guy Fawkes have been jailed, tortured and put to death here.
Their stories are the stuff of myth and legend.
But the truth is even more extraordinary.
I'm Dr Suzannah Lipscomb, Tudor historian and author.
And I'm Joe Crowley, journalist and investigator.
Together we want to reveal the secret history of the Tower.
Hunting down evidence.
It's like a sweet shop for a historian.
Making some shocking discoveries.
That is quite incredible.
And coming to some very surprising conclusions.
Everyone's very sure that this was a complete stitch-up.
This must have been an inside job.
- Think you know the Tower of London? - Time to think again.
In this episode - executions.
We're investigating three of the Tower's most extraordinary killings.
There's the beheading of a king's son that turned horrifically messy.
I've just put it in the back of the head.
The mob execution of England's holiest man.
It wasn't a clean execution.
Seven or eight blows to finally sever the whole head.
And the tragic killing of a teenaged queen.
Jane was only 16.
She was hoping to live out her life as Queen.
All three were once amongst England's elite, and all three would lose their heads at the Tower.
It's the 15th July 1685.
Outside the Tower of London, executioner John Ketch is about to carry out one of the most memorable executions in English history.
The victim is wig-wearing dandy the Duke of Monmouth.
The illegitimate son of a king, who has just lead a failed rebellion to snatch the throne.
Today he faces the traditional noble's execution - beheading.
In theory, a cleaner, swifter death than hanging.
But in the hands of axe-man John Ketch, it will turn very messy.
The first blow barely grazes Monmouth.
Then, to the astonishment of a vast crowd, he rains down blow after blow without removing Monmouth's head.
So how did Ketch get his big moment so hideously wrong? OK, next up we've got a severely botched beheading.
So, you're saying the Tower of London might be no good at the thing it's most famous for? - Exactly.
Exactly.
- OK.
I'm going to look into how beheadings were carried out.
And if you could look into the executioner's tools - his axe.
The axe, OK.
By 1685, John Ketch had years of experience as hangman to London's common criminals.
But beheadings were different.
They were reserved for nobility and Ketch had only swung the axe once before.
On display at the Tower is the closest match we have to the tool Ketch used - a 400-year-old axe.
But was it fit for purpose? To find out, I just need to locate an axe maker.
Going back to the time of Monmouth's execution and I suppose there would be blacksmiths everywhere in the country, probably in every local parish.
These days, of course, that's not the case.
But we have managed to find a bladesmith - Owen Bush.
You've been to the Tower of London, you've seen the axe there.
I want your professional opinion.
What did you make of it? It's a massive axe and it's not strictly speaking an executioner's axe.
It's a woodworking axe.
It's been designed for getting in close to wood and shaving wood off.
It's very similar to an axe like this.
You can see you've got the blade along one side with the handle slightly offset and it's got a chisel edge on it.
Oh, so you're up against something quite close and you're just shaving stuff off.
There'd certainly be a skill to using it, if you were not going to use it as a woodworking axe.
This is a bit of a surprise.
Owen reckons the Tower's axe is more suited to doing a bit of woodwork than slicing off heads.
What would you have expected for an executioner's axe? I would have expected it to look somewhat like this.
The whole weight in the axe head is running through the middle of the blade.
And if you were to pick it up above your head and chop someone with it, it's not going to want to pull you off side.
But the one in the Tower is offset, and it's got a bit of a kink where the head is, so you've got an axe that has all its weight hanging off one side.
Were 17th-century executioners using an axe that simply wasn't up to the job? That's Owen's theory, but he knows the proof of the axe is in the chopping.
He's now going to make a replica of the axe from the Tower to see whether it was the fault of the axe, not the man wielding it.
On execution day, hangman Ketch wasn't just faced with an unfamiliar tool, he had to publicly slaughter a folk hero - the Duke of Monmouth.
Monmouth was the son of King Charles II, but he was illegitimate.
So when Charles died in 1685, the throne didn't pass to him, but to his uncle, King James II.
Monmouth was incensed, and planned a rebellion.
It would gain widespread popular support, but he could never convince the army to join his revolt.
In July 1685 Monmouth was captured and sent to the Tower.
There, James II decided to make an example of him with an execution in front of a vast London crowd.
To get a sense of the atmosphere that day, I've come to London's biggest stadium.
Today is Cup Final day, and 90,000 football fans have flocked to Wembley.
We have to imagine that the Duke of Monmouth's execution was a bit like this - a vast crowd gathering, food stalls being set up and lots of people being a bit rowdy, but also families, too.
Because as macabre as it might seem to us, this was a great event at which everybody gathered.
And like these football fans, many of the crowd at Monmouth's execution weren't just there to watch.
They were there to heckle, to shout and many were also just as partisan as this lot here.
Monmouth was immensely popular and had an army of fans.
The crowd was on his side and wanted his death to be as painless as possible.
For John Ketch the pressure was really on.
Ketch's first blow merely grazed Monmouth's head.
The second did make a slightly deeper gash, but the third failed to finish the job and Ketch bottled it.
God damn it, I can do no more.
My heart fails me.
The axe man had to be ordered to finish the job.
But two or three blows later Monmouth's head was still on and Ketch resorted to using a knife.
Standing at the heart of an enormous hostile crowd, Ketch must have experienced something akin to stage fright and I feel some sympathy for him.
As each blow failed to deliver a clean beheading, the hostility must have grown to the point that Ketch found it unbearable.
Was it this alone that explains Ketch's hideous failure? Back at the blacksmith's, blade-maker Owen is putting the finishing touches to his replica Tower of London axe.
Here's your axe.
Owen, that truly looks like the stuff of nightmares.
That's incredible! It would be a nightmare if it was your head on the block.
It's as close as I could get to the one in the Tower.
- It's got this kink in it.
- So it kinks round.
Yeah.
Time to put this axe to the test.
You want to have your opposite leg back.
OK.
And you're dropping as you cut, so the action is to come down.
Owen has challenged me to strike this reed matting between the two red lines.
Now, will I be as wayward as John Ketch? - So, I've lined it up.
- Gosh, this feels so odd.
And I've missed! You missed him.
You've just cut through his head.
I was genuinely going for between the red lines and I've just put it in the back of the head.
- I wonder if that's because of the offset.
- It is on that side, isn't it? I find it quite difficult to look down it because I'm looking down the pole and I came down on that side.
My axe would have crashed into Monmouth's skull, not sliced through his neck.
The weight and kink had a real impact on my aim and this seems a poor axe to behead someone with.
Ketch himself had to use a knife to remove Monmouth's head, which makes me think: Would a thinner blade have been preferable? 150 years previously, Henry VIII's second wife Anne Boleyn had also been sentenced to death by beheading.
But Anne was not killed by an axe.
Instead, Henry imported a French swordsman as executioner.
So let's see how beheading by sword compares.
Here to help me is sword instructor Dave Rawlings.
With an axe we're going to be impacting on something.
With this we're going to come clean through with one motion.
There's going to be no stopping.
So, hopefully, it's going to be very nice and, hopefully, merciful.
The evenly weighted sword should be more accurate, but will it have the power of the axe? Time, once again, to execute some reed matting.
Let's give it a go.
So, that's the blunt edge so I can just put that there.
- It came off in one.
- You did grand.
It doesn't look like the cleanest I don't know, actually.
What does the master think? I will put the sword to one side.
What's the expert opinion? There's a little bit of a turn.
You can see a curve in the cut.
But you haven't left anything frayed, you have cut through.
So hopefully it would be a good, clean kill.
It's not as flat as it could be, but reasonably so.
The sword does appear cleaner, more effective than the axe.
Luckily, this was the case for Anne Boleyn and her head was removed in one clean blow by her imported French swordsmen.
Something John Ketch very publicly failed to do.
Right now, the evidence suggests John Ketch faced a frightening situation with a sub-standard tool.
But there's one missing piece in this puzzle.
Ketch may have been a hangman, but he had carried out one other beheading in his career.
Incredibly, Ketch himself even published a pamphlet about it.
I'm going to look at a copy in the Institute of Historical Research in London.
It's called, for a start, The Apology Of John Ketch Esq, The Executioner Of London, in vindication of himself as to the execution of the late Lord Russell.
So immediately, the date tells us this is two years before Monmouth's execution.
And the purpose of writing it is, as he says here, to clear and vindicate himself as to the manner of my Lord Russell's execution.
So Ketch had form.
He'd botched his last beheading, too.
Lord Russell had also suffered a drawn-out butchering, and this is Ketch's comeback to widespread criticism.
And the first thing he says is, "There are several reports that have been raised, as namely, I was drinking the whole of the foregoing night and was in drink when I came upon the scaffold.
" Now, Ketch denies this entirely and says he went orderly to bed that night and wholly undisguised in drink.
The next thing he suggests is that it's actually Lord Russell's fault.
He did not dispose himself for receiving the fatal stroke in a posture as was most suitable.
Ketch is suggesting that the reason he messed up Lord Russell's execution was because Lord Russell moved his body.
It's quite obvious that Ketch has done this before.
He's just not very good at this, and he even has the temerity to blame it on the person he's trying to execute.
His axe may have been poor and his job tough, but Ketch utterly failed to learn from his past experience.
That he was even allowed to swing the axe again speaks volumes for the callous attitude of King James II's government.
320 of Monmouth's supporters went on to be sentenced to death by the King's enforcer, Judge Jeffreys whilst Ketch's savage blundering at the Tower would go down in folklore.
For more than a century, executioners in England were nicknamed John or Jack Ketch and mocked as cruel, bungling fools.
It's June 14th 1381.
Simon of Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury, is praying at St John's Chapel in the heart of the Tower of London.
et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen.
Simon is both leader of England's Church and the Lord Chancellor, a top politician in the government of teenage king Richard II.
Outside the Tower, a rebellion is raging - The Peasants'Revolt.
Tens of thousands of protesters have descended on London.
Within minutes, a mob will breach the Tower's incredible defences, snatch Sudbury from his chapel and tear him to pieces.
It is an utterly unique event.
In 900 years'of history, it's the only time the fortress has been breached.
So how did a rag-bag gang of peasants break into the country's toughest fortress? And in an era of God-fearing people, why did they seek out and execute the country's holiest man? Now, you've got to remember, this is an impenetrable fortress, end of.
It's just supposed to be superb.
So how on earth do a group of unruly, revolting peasants break in and pull Simon out? I want you to look at the security at the Tower and just where it was vulnerable, if at all.
I'm going to see what people really felt of Simon at the time and what motivated this mob to go in and attack him.
OK, sounds great.
The story starts with a popular uprising in Essex, in Kent, that grew to become one of the biggest rebellions in English history - the Peasants'Revolt.
But just what were these peasants so upset about? To find out, I've come to rain-soaked Cosmeston, a medieval village lovingly recreated on its old foundations by archaeologists like Nick Coles.
So, we talk about the Peasants' Revolt, but who were the peasants? What sort of people were they? All you're really talking about are rural folk from ones who really were grubbing around in the mud without two pennies to rub together, through to people like the reeve.
The reeve is almost like a village manager.
If he were a farmer nowadays, he would be the green welly, Range Rover type of farmer.
And you have everything in-between.
Some 30 years before the Peasants'Revolt, the Black Death had wiped out around half of England's population.
But ever since, the lives of peasants, rich and poor, had perked up.
Their labour was in higher demand, so wages rose and freedoms increased.
Then the government starts getting involved.
There's a bit of twitchiness over this freedom and the money that's going out.
So the first thing you get is a new law coming in from central government - and this new law is that wages must be the level they were at prior to the Black Death.
So whatever you're getting now, forget that.
It had to go back to that earlier amount.
This meddling by central government went down badly.
On top of that they kept raising one-off poll taxes to fund a war in France.
In 1380, the latest one-off tax was triple the original one.
So when the tax collectors turned up at a village like this they wouldn't have been the most popular visitors, would they? Initially, you're going to get people who are just refusing to pay tax.
The tax collectors go off, come back with a few strong-armed lads to have a word with them.
Then people start getting injured.
People start getting killed.
And this is where everything starts to kick off.
So it really does escalate, it builds a momentum.
It does.
And after these initial deaths amongst people trying to collect the taxes, you get the various villagers banding together, looking for someone to blame.
They're looking for someone to take their grievance to.
And those people are going to be in London.
Tens of thousands of protesters marched on the capital.
Bad news for Simon of Sudbury.
He's a target because he's the Archbishop of Canterbury.
The Church are land owners, they are seen as having huge amounts of wealth, but also he's the Lord Chancellor.
He's right up there at the top of government.
Sudbury and the young King retreat to the Tower, but as the army is tied up in France, there's no-one to disperse the mob.
Instead, the King agrees to meet the rebels for talks just outside London.
But many of the peasants stay behind in the capital and make straight for the Tower, where Simon of Sudbury is hiding out.
The Tower of London was designed from the start as a maximum security castle.
The central White Tower came first, begun in 1078.
Over the centuries a curtain wall, a moat, second curtain wall and barbican were added.
Until, by the time of the revolt in 1381, it looked like the mighty fortress we see today.
The peasants would have had to contend with massive defences to reach Sudbury in the heart of the Tower.
It just looks completely impregnable.
First of all, we've got this enormous tower.
There would have been a portcullis here and then you've got to get on through the gate.
So there's already two layers of defence.
This, of course, would be a moat - completely full of water.
And, of course, we've got all these arrow slits.
If I hadn't been shot already Look at the murder holes.
So it really was difficult to break through all these layers.
Having somehow forced their way inside the Tower complex, the job of the marauding peasant mob was far from done.
Next, they had to deal with the Tower's inner defences.
They've still got, somehow, to get through this extraordinary wall.
And look - another portcullis.
There would have been another set of doors here.
And if you'd actually managed to get through here, you'll just have rows and rows of archers on either side shooting at you.
With Sudbury holed up in the central White Tower, I just can't see how a peasant mob could have beaten the fortress for the only time in history, and got to their prey.
They must have had inside help.
This must have been an inside job.
There's no way they could have done it otherwise.
But just who would have betrayed the holiest man in England? It seems clear the peasants despised Sudbury because of the regime's unfair taxes, but now I want to discover what other enemies this archbishop had.
I'm heading to his home town to meet a local researcher who's spent three years exploring Simon's working life - Ian Copeman.
Ian, I know the reputation, but what about the man himself? Just how nasty was he, really? The exact opposite of nasty.
All my research seems to indicate that he was a lovely chap.
He gave his house over to become a college for priests.
He almost rebuilt the church here.
When he was Bishop of London, the Pope wanted to move him.
The people of London wrote to the Pope and said, "This guy is a good shepherd.
He is everything that we want in a leader.
He teaches us, he leads by example.
Please leave him here.
" Now, if you're a tyrant, if you're a despot, you don't get that sort of response.
Sudbury may have been hated by the peasants, but it sounds like in the capital he was revered, and his killing seems more mysterious than ever.
The best way to solve historical mysteries is usually to go back to the original sources.
And there's one particular contemporary account I want to look at.
The College of Arms in Central London holds the work of a monk named Thomas Walsingham.
But can he reveal the secret of the Tower's failure? So here it is.
It says there was a huge crowd of around 20,000 peasants and they'd set fire to some of the tall houses and shamelessly seized goods belonging to the King.
And they were driven to such a pitch of madness that the King, being in a very tight spot, allowed them to enter the Tower.
So there we go, that's the secret.
That's the mystery at the heart of it - the King allowed them in.
This account blames the King himself for betraying his archbishop - sacrificing Sudbury to sate the mob's rage.
You can imagine the Archbishop looking down on this and seeing the guards who were there to defend him just standing aside and letting this rampaging crowd rush through the Tower.
It must have just been absolutely terrifying for him.
And yet, it appears Sudbury was ready for his death.
It says here that the Archbishop was well aware of their plan and imminent arrival, and had spent the whole of the preceding night in making his confession and saying his holy prayers.
And then he berated their delay saying such things as, "When are they going to come? Good God, what are they waiting for?" God willing, it's already time for them to be here.
Could it be that Sudbury agreed to his fate, or even volunteered himself as a sacrificial lamb? We cannot know for certain, but I think the evidence is compelling.
Sudbury was sacrificed.
And it worked.
The peasants were pacified and King Richard II stayed on the throne for another 18 years.
And the Tower's defences didn't fail.
Instead the doors were simply flung open and the mob rushed in and tore the Archbishop of Canterbury apart like a pack of hyenas.
Back at the church in Sudbury that Simon helped build, Ian Copeman is unimpressed by this mob justice.
It wasn't a clean execution.
Seven or eight blows to finally sever the whole head.
His head was then taken up, placed on a pike and then his head disappeared.
It was stolen.
Do we know what happened to the head? If you'd like to come through here If you'd like to undo that little cubby hole.
A very odd hatch in the wall.
- So, it's not locked, is it? It's just - And you pull it down.
- And you wondered where Simon's head was.
- Oh, my goodness.
That is quite incredible.
It was taken down, it was brought to Sudbury and it was held in his College of Priests.
So, that would have been a loving gesture, to bring the head back? Yeah, they probably thought that this was going to be the last chance we're going to get.
We've got to save his head.
Today, Sudbury's severed head is a startling memento from a unique time in English history when a mob of peasants had the run of the Tower and slaughtered the holiest man in the country.
It's 12th February 1554.
At the Tower of London, a 16-year-old girl awaits her execution.
Good people, I am come hither to die.
This is Lady Jane Grey, and just months before, she was being proclaimed Queen of England.
But her cousin and rival Mary believed she had a better claim to the throne and within days had snatched the crown.
Now Mary has condemned her rival to death - the most infamous execution of a notoriously bloody reign.
But who was the rightful Queen? Well, this case is all about Lady Jane Grey.
The Queen for nine days, as she's called.
Famously, she's supposed to be the only monarch who was executed at the Tower.
OK, so remind me what's contentious about this one? Well, the clue's in the name.
She's called Lady Jane Grey, not Queen Jane.
So the question is, was she really queen at all? - Plenty to look into.
- Absolutely.
- OK.
Let's do it.
- Great.
Jane Grey's short life began around 1537.
She was raised in the idyllic surrounds of Bradgate House in Leicestershire.
Her family were leading nobles.
And her great uncle was the king - Henry VIII himself.
Here at Bradgate Park, Jane would grow into an attractive young woman.
Pretty and petite, she had auburn colour hair and fair, freckled skin.
But she was far from being just a pretty Tudor face.
She was bright and she was unusually well educated for a woman in the 16th century.
When one visitor called here in 1550, they found everyone out hunting, except the 14-year-old Jane.
Instead, she had stayed at home to study Plato in the original Greek.
Growing up here, bookworm Jane would have had no inkling as to her fate.
Henry VIII had three living children.
The prospect of his obscure great-niece claiming the throne would have seemed simply absurd.
Henry VIII was a man obsessed with who would succeed him.
It was one of the driving forces of a tumultuous love life which saw him behead two wives, divorce another two and somehow find time to turn England protestant.
So who did he want to succeed him? And where does Lady Jane Grey fit into the story? To find out, I've come to Britain's Parliamentary Archives in Westminster, because in 1543 Henry passed a law outlining who would rule next.
Very official language.
There's lots of I's dotted and T's crossed.
It says, actually, quite soon in, that it should go to the first son of his body and that's the noble and excellent prince - Prince Edward.
OK.
So, definitely goes to Henry's son Prince Edward, "Whom Almighty God long preserve.
" The five-year-old Edward was Henry's only legitimate son and the next in line.
But who should follow him? If he were to have no children, then the next in line would be the King's Highness daughter, Lady Mary.
Nowhere here, after Edward, does it mention Lady Jane Grey at all.
Mary is now Henry's choice after Edward, and this is startling.
Henry had previously declared his marriage to her mother, Catherine of Aragon, void and Mary a bastard.
Now Henry reinstates his eldest daughter Mary, a committed Catholic.
And Jane Grey is nowhere to be seen.
Henry VIII's extraordinary 38-year reign ended in 1547 and his young protestant son Edward succeeded him, with Mary in pole position to follow.
Lady Jane Grey was little more than another teenaged noble.
But in May 1553 things started to change for Jane Grey.
She came here to Durham House, which used to be on this very spot, for her wedding day.
She was marrying into the Dudleys - the best connected family in England.
Now young Jane was at the centre of power whether she wanted to be or not.
The timing was critical The 15-year-old King Edward VI was seriously ill and not expected to survive the year.
Now it was his turn to choose who should follow him.
I've come to Inner Temple Library, in the legal heart of London to see exactly what Edward decided.
I'm really excited about seeing this document because, actually, it is the boy king Edward's own writing, on his deathbed.
So, who did this dying teenager want to succeed him? Here we go.
Well, look at this.
It's in quite a childish hand, actually, and there's lots and lots of crossings out.
It starts: My device for the succession and then 'the lack of issue with my body'.
In other words, he hasn't produced any natural children.
'To the Lady Frances' heirs, male, if she have any.
' Edward has ignored his Catholic sister Mary and leapt across the family tree to the sons of his cousin - Lady Frances.
Unfortunately, Lady Frances didn't have sons, but she did have an eldest daughter- Lady Jane Grey.
And then this is the crucial bit.
Originally, it looks like he's written 'to the Lady Jane's heirs, male.
' Edward, at first, is very much just wanting to pass it on to boys, but then he must have figured out that he was dying and he has to provide for the occasion.
So it says Instead he's changed it to: Lady Jane and her heirs, male.
So first and foremost it goes to Lady Jane.
This document shows us Edward's working out of the whole thing, of him changing his mind, working out what he wanted to do and trying to deal with the situation.
Lady Jane Grey had been thrust from relative obscurity to suddenly take the place of Mary.
When told the news, Jane was reportedly stunned and deeply upset.
But she had little time to adjust.
Within a month, Edward was dead and England's nobles had offered Jane the crown.
Jane headed to the Tower, the traditional home of monarchs before their coronation at Westminster.
From there the reluctant 16-year-old queen wrote a poignant letter.
So, this starts: 'Jane the Queen.
' 'Trusty and well beloved, we greet you well.
By cause, we doubt not, but this the most lawful possession of the crown.
' So, in this very letter, Jane is saying that her possession of the crown is lawful.
Oh, brilliant.
I hadn't seen this before.
I was looking for the date.
We've got it here.
18th July in the first year of our reign.
It's quite sad, because in this one statement you've got the great hope for the future that she has.
And Jane was only 16.
She was hoping to live out her life as Queen.
Jane Grey's reign would be short-lived.
Just 13 days after taking the throne, Mary was marching through the gates of London to depose her.
To find out how Mary turned things around, I'm heading to the spot where she entered the city - Aldgate - to meet historian Anna Whitelock.
Mary, first of all, goes to Kenninghall in Norfolk and people start to flock to her.
And then, such is the swell of support, she moves to Framlingham in Suffolk.
And there's an amazing scene where all the local commons and gentry figures come outside the castle.
This is Mary rallying forces and saying, "Fight for me against this imposter in London.
" But before marching on the Tower, Mary embarks on a propaganda campaign, firing off letters to England's nobles.
She sort of says, "I hear a rumour that you're declaring for Lady Jane Grey.
That's got to be wrong because you know I'm the legitimate queen.
You might want to correct that little mistake and we'll all move on.
" Her whole campaign is based around legitimacy.
"I am Henry VIII's daughter.
Go back and look at the Rolls of Parliament, which you've seen.
It says there that I am the next legitimate heir to the throne.
" Mary's huge public support is decisive.
Almost overnight England's nobles go from supporting Jane to supporting Mary.
Lady Jane Grey, having been in this kind of palace in the Tower, suddenly, that becomes her prison.
- She doesn't know what's going on.
- No, that's one confused teenager.
Without leaving the Tower, Jane is transformed from Queen to prisoner, and her cousin Mary is now ruler of England.
We know what Henry VIII wanted.
We know what Edward wanted.
And from speaking to Anna, there's a sense that, actually, the people were behind Mary on this one.
That, ultimately, she was Henry's daughter.
That made her quite a familiar character, in many ways, almost a bit of a celeb.
The person that the public felt should really be the next queen.
Lady Jane Grey's fate wasn't sealed straight away.
Queen Mary kept her locked up in the Tower for seven months.
But eventually, it seemed she thought it was too risky to have her alive.
Whilst Jane was living, there was a clear threat to Mary's crown.
On 12th February 1554, Lady Jane Grey was lead to a scaffold erected on Tower Green within the walls of the Tower.
On her way to her own execution, she was said to have witnessed the recently decapitated body of her husband.
I am come hither to die.
I prey you dispatch me quickly.
Blind-folded, Jane reached in panic for the execution block found it and was beheaded cleanly.
Mary's rule would become infamous for slaughter.
In her five-year reign, 312 people accused of heresy were burnt at the stake or died in prison as Mary returned England to the Catholic Church.
That change was short-lived and instead, her legacy was to be forever branded 'Bloody Mary'.
Today, we remember her rival Jane as a tragic victim.
But shouldn't we also remember her as Queen Jane even though she was never crowned here at Westminster? Historian Chris Skidmore thinks so.
And the proof is right here in the Abbey.
If you look at the back of the wall, which is the tomb of the famous Princes in the Tower.
Oh, yes.
So, you've got Edward and his brother Richard.
But what I want you to look at is that first line where it says: Edward V, King of England.
It just goes to prove that Edward V didn't have a coronation but he's still considered Edward V, King of England.
Edward V had been locked in the Tower by his uncle and successor Richard III in 1483 and never seen again.
And he's not the only King Edward who was never crowned.
The other famous example is Edward VIII in 1936.
We regard him as Edward VIII, but he never had that coronation.
So even though Jane herself never had a coronation, I believe you can still regard her as Queen Jane.
So Jane's the Queen and Mary's just an upstart, illegitimate and a rebel, you're saying? Absolutely.
We've got two kings in history who weren't crowned and who were monarchs.
So Lady Jane Grey is another one of those.
We should call her Queen Jane.
We should remember her as a true Queen of England before Mary came along and seized her throne.
May 2017