Every Step of the Way

by KGH, 8th grade

Catherine Willoughby, the Duchess of Suffolk, was a wealthy and prominent Protestant in Tudor England. She was the patron of John Day, a Protestant publisher. She hired Hugh Latimer, later a martyr, as her chaplain, and she helped to establish “stranger churches” for Protestants who had fled persecution in other countries. Willoughby and her second husband, Richard Bertie, escaped Queen Mary's persecution in 1555. The story below is a fictionalized account of Catherine's escape.

London, England,

January 1st, 1555 

A strange, cold wind rustled the treetops. Clouds dimmed the soft glow of the moonlight. All was quiet, but all was not well. Inside a large stone house, a woman quietly slipped down a long hallway. Her blue eyes glanced from side to side, and the candle she held sent eerie shadows across her face. She came upon my bedroom door, and tapped it ever so quietly. I opened my eyes, and sat up. Who was at my door in the middle of the night? I slipped out of the warm bed and over to the door. I lifted the bar. The woman squeezed her way through the small opening, and quickly shut it. She turned to me and in the dim of the candlelight whispered, “Helen, we must leave. Gather your things, for we are going very soon.”

 

I gasped. “Leave, Mistress Catherine?”  

She placed her finger on my lips. “No one must know,” she whispered, “except the servants who are to go with us.” And with that, she left, clicking the door shut behind her. My heart beat fast. Leaving the country by night? Sneaking out without Queen Mary’s approval? What if we were caught?  

Queen Mary was a devout Catholic. She had been persecuting and killing the Protestants. Recently, Queen Mary had threatened the Duchess of Suffolk. Richard Bertie, the Duchess's husband, left the country immediately, and from what I was now finding out, had made plans for his wife and precious daughter to escape in the middle of the night.

Another soft rap on the door interrupted my thoughts. I hurried and opened it. Edith, the young, quiet kitchen maid stood there, a bundle of clothes in her arms.

“Mistress Catherine says to hurry and meet her by the back entrance,” she whispered, hurrying away. I quickly got dressed in my long brown dress, typical attire of a lady-in-waiting. I pulled my long, light brown hair into a bun and grabbed my clothes. I stuffed them into a valise and headed out the door. The house was very quiet. I hastened down a long corridor and down some steps. I turned the corner and almost ran into Agnes, the laundress. She scrambled with the load of clothes she carried. Her dark brown hair fell in her face.

“We must hurry!” she cried. We ran down a hallway, lined with columns. Giant portraits of people hung on the dark walls. Their eyes stared blankly ahead, sending terrifying chills down my spine. Why did houses have to be so creepy at night?

We reached a small foyer with a door, where Mistress Catherine waited. She held little Susan, who was fast asleep.

“Hugh and Samuel are waiting by the stables,” she whispered, referring to the joiner and stable keeper. Edith stood by Catherine, holding a bottle of milk for little Susan. Catherine slowly opened the door. The cold night air filled my lungs. She looked both ways and then motioned us to follow her. We tiptoed across the lawn and then dashed behind a little shed. Heavy footsteps echoed through the night - the night guards! They paced outside the tall, black, iron fence, watching and waiting. We crouched down low. Agnes knelt beside me, and I could feel her hands trembling. I eyed Catherine. She looked this way and that, seeing if the path was clear. She waved her hand, telling us to stay behind the shed. She raced across the yard, and behind a huge tree. Waiting until the guard had gone the other way, she dashed to the side gate and unlatched it. It creaked open, breaking the silenced night. I nervously watched the guards. They had heard the noise and were looking frantically around.

“What was that?” one guard asked.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” a bigger guard replied. I looked across the pitch-black yard. I could see Catherine’s faint outline as she entered the stable. I turned to the other girls.

“Come on,” I whispered. We hurried across, through the gate, and safely into the stable.

Catherine was kneeling behind a hay barrel with Hugh and Samuel.

“Samuel, carry my valise,” she ordered. The small stable keeper took her bag and laid it beside him.

“Agnes, up in the loft I’ve hidden an oil lamp. Would you hurry and get it?” Catherine asked. Agnes nodded her head and climbed the ladder.

“Listen carefully,” she whispered, looking at each of us. “I plan to-“ her quiet voice was interrupted by a loud crash. Glass showered down on us. Edith’s hand flew to her mouth to prevent a scream. Catherine looked up. Up in the loft, Agnes gasped. She had dropped the oil lamp. She opened her mouth to say something, when two voices rang out.

***

“Sounded like it came from the stable,” a guard said. Catherine scrambled behind a large hay barrel, rocking little Susan to keep her quiet. Edith and I bounded up the ladder and into the loft with Agnes. I saw Hugh and Samuel get into a horse stall just as the door burst open. Two guards entered. The bigger one held a bright torch.

“I don’t think anybody’s in here, Atkinson,” the smaller one complained. Atkinson squinted his dark, hazel eyes.

“I heard a noise,” he grunted. They looked around, tossing hay barrels out of their way. I hoped they wouldn’t find Catherine.

“Come on, let’s get back to our post,” the small one said. Atkinson finally agreed and they strode out the door. None of us came out until we were sure they wouldn’t come back. Edith, Agnes, and I came down the ladder and found Catherine. Her face was ashen with fear. Her hands trembled. She stood up and went over to the boys.

***

“Hugh, Samuel, go to Lyon Quay immediately,” she whispered, referring to the harbor in London. “You are to meet the boat there. Head to the Netherlands and meet Richard. The girls and I will go a different direction.” Her voice shook with fear. Hugh and Samuel raced out a back entrance and into the blackness of the night.

“Come on,” she whispered. We followed her out the door. She ran to the front of the house and onto the street. We stopped and looked down below. Tears filled my eyes. The dark figures of London reached out and touched the starlit sky. Catherine gave a weary sigh. We all knew there was a difficult journey ahead of us. But we also knew that God would take care of us. Catherine took a deep breath and walked down the dusty road. We followed, looking up into the beautiful night sky.

Dressed in merchant’s wife’s clothing that Agnes had brought along, we made our way through the streets of London. Rats scampered past us. It smelled awful. Catherine had no idea where Lyon Quay was, so we wondered in circles. The light of daybreak began to shine. We were tired, weary, and hungry. Little Susan cried.

“Edith, do you have the bottle of milk?” Catherine asked. Edith’s eyes grew big.

“No, maam. I think I left it in the stable!” she cried.

“Oh, no! And I left the valise, too!” Catherine exclaimed. She looked at Susan. Susan whined and cried.

“We need to find something to eat,” she said. “And now that we’ve left those things behind, they will surely find out that we’ve escaped,” she said.

“Should we hurry and find Lyon Quay, then?” Agnes asked.

“Yes, but let’s find some food first,” she replied. My stomach growled at the mention of food. I hoped we could find someone who would give us something. Catherine was a wealthy person, but she was not able to take much money with her.

It was now full morning, and the streets were crowded with people, young, and old. A boy and his dog played with sticks, and peddler woman sold flowers. Catherine pushed her way through. We came across a little bakery. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the interior and spilled out the front door. I so badly wanted some of it, but Catherine didn’t have enough money. She was able to buy a bottle of milk for Susan, however, from a lady in the street. We wandered on, not knowing whether we were going in the right direction.

“Miss Catherine?” Agnes asked.

“Yes?”

“May we take a rest?” Agnes puffed. Her shoulders sagged from the bundles on her back. Catherine looked around.

“We can sit there,” she replied, pointing to a small bench. Catherine sat down, and I sat at her feet. It felt wonderful to sit after wandering all morning. We had been walking all over London, and we still hadn’t found Lyon Quay.

“We'd better get going.” Catherine stood up. I sighed. Already? Catherine always wanted to be on the move. I didn’t blame her though. I would, too, if I were being hunted down.

We followed closely behind her as she made her way through the crowd of people. We had almost reached the end of the street when Catherine bumped a lady carrying a sack of bread.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” Catherine apologized. The woman said nothing but stared at Catherine’s old and worn clothing. Her soft, blue eyes looked compassionately at little Susan.

“That’s all right,” she said. She reached into her bag and pulled out two loaves of bread.

“Please take this. You need it more than I do,” she whispered, placing the bread in Catherine’s hands.

“Oh, no. We could never take it,” she said, trying to give it back.

 

“Nonsense. I have plenty of food at home. Take it, please,” she said. Catherine’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, bless you Madame! Bless you!”

“You are very welcome.” The woman placed her hands on Catherine’s shoulder.

“Do you have a place to stay?” she asked.

“I’m on my way to Lyon Quay, but I’m not exactly sure where it is,” Catherine sighed.

“It’s that way. Head straight, and you’ll eventually meet up with it,” she replied.

“Thank you so much,” Catherine said, squeezing the woman’s hand. We rushed away, heading toward the wharf. 

***

“You found these things where?”

“In the stable,” Atkinson replied to the head of the Privy Council. “This bottle of milk and this valise are sheer evidence that Duchess Catherine has escaped,” he said.

“Issue a warrant for Catherine’s arrest, and tell everyone to be on the lookout for her,” a man said.

“She shouldn’t be too hard to find. She has a baby and five servants with her,” another said. The leader rubbed his chin. He looked around.

“All right,” he said, nodding his head. “Issue a warrant immediately. I want her found and delivered to her Majesty at once!”

***

The seagulls shrieked. The waves crashed against the dock. The bells tolled. A cold wind whipped my hair. I rocked little Susan, as she laughed playfully at the birds flying overhead. We had finally reached Lyon Quay. I looked over where Catherine was talking to the owner of a barge, trying to get him to take us to Leigh, a small town at the mouth of the Thames River.

“It’s not that far,” I could hear her say.

“But it’s so foggy,” the man said. “And that’s not enough money.”

“Will you take this instead of more money?” Catherine reached and unclasped a gold chain that hung around her neck.

“Oh no, not your necklace!” I rushed over to her.

“Helen, I must,” she said, dropping it in the man’s rough hands.

“But it was your mother’s,” I sighed.

“I know. But we must get to Leigh,” she said, taking Susan from my arms.

We walked cautiously aboard the barge. There were boxes, and bags, and crates. Large pieces of furniture sat tied to the floor of the flat boat. We zigzagged around the huge load cargo and into the tiny cabin. Agnes plopped down on the floor, exhausted. Edith took Susan, while Catherine rested on the cot. The boat started to move, and I laid down on a soft blanket on the floor. I took my bag, and out of it, I pulled my diary. It was small and red. Inside the booklet, the pages were crinkled and torn. I didn’t mind. I took a small ink pen from the desk in the room and began to write.

January 1^st, 1555

Dearest diary,

I am writing here on a barge. You might be wondering what I am doing on such a boat. Catherine is escaping from England, and I am going with her. It’s been a frightening experience so far. We barely made it out of her house without the guards spotting us. Then, we wandered around London for a whole day, without any food. A kind lady gave us some bread, however, and I’m quite full. Right now, we are on the Thames River, heading towards Leigh. I’m very tired, so I guess I should stop writing. Hopefully I can get in some sleep before we reach the small town.

I put the pen down and closed my diary. I looked around. Catherine slept, and Edith gently sang to Susan. Agnes was at Edith’s feet, slowly drifting off as she sang the lullaby. I laid down on my blanket. I listened as Edith’s sweet voice carried throughout the room. My eyelids grew heavy, and soon, I was fast asleep.

“Helen, wake up! Helen!” I opened my eyes. Edith was in my face.

“We’re here! We’re at Leigh!” she exclaimed. I sat up. Catherine was gathering her blankets, and Agnes held Susan. 

“Oh!” I stood up. We followed Catherine out the cabin door and across the long, flat boat. She thanked the man who owned the barge, and we disembarked. We walked down the dock and onto the street. When we reached the center of town, we realized how much smaller Leigh was than London. A few people strolled down the cobblestone street, unlike the large crowds in London. Catherine spotted a sign that read: 

Blackstone Inn 

Rooms and food

We walked in and an older gentleman greeted us.

“Welcome to Blackstone Inn,” he smiled. Catherine handed him the last of our money.

“I’d like a room please,” she said. The man led us up a stairwell and down a hallway. He stopped at a door, and gave us the key.

“Here’s your room,” he said. Agnes opened the door and we walked in. It was tiny, but cozy. There was a large bed and a window that looked out into the street.

“Oh, how pretty!” Edith exclaimed.

“Yes,” Catherine agreed. She took off her blue cloak and laid it on the bed.

“Helen, would you run downstairs and ask the man if he has any milk for Susan?” Catherine asked. I nodded my head and walked out the door. The stairs creaked loudly as I walked down. When I reached the bottom, I stopped. The owner was whispering to another man.

“Did you hear about the Duchess of Suffolk? She and some of her servants escaped yesterday,” the innkeeper said. The other man let out a low whistle.

“She could be anywhere,” he said. My heart pounded in my chest. They had already heard about Catherine! I turned and bounded up the steps. They creaked loudly.

“Who’s there?” the innkeeper yelled. I kept on running. I raced down the hall and into our room.

“Helen! What’s the matter?” Agnes asked.

“They know about the escape! News has already traveled this far!” I cried. Catherine’s eyes grew big.

“We need to leave,” she exclaimed, grabbing Susan. “And fast.” Edith slowly opened the door. I hoped the innkeeper hadn’t followed me up here.

“I wonder if there are any other exits,” Catherine whispered. We slowly made our way down the hall. Downstairs, I could hear voices. We could never get out that way!

“Maybe there’s a back staircase,” I suggested.

“Good idea,” Catherine said. We went past our door and down to the end of the hallway. A small door led down the kitchen staircase. We opened it and heard the busy cooks talking and laughing.

“How will we get past them?” Agnes asked. Catherine took a deep breath.

“One at a time,” she whispered. So, one by one, we sneaked past the busy cooks and out the back door.

***

The fat innkeeper raced up the stairs. He reached their door and banged upon it with all his might. He twisted the knob, and the door flew open. They were gone. He gasped.

“Mathias! Mathias!” he went running down the stairs. The younger man rushed up to him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It is her! She has escaped!” the innkeeper cried. They ran out the front door. But Catherine and her loyal servants were nowhere in sight.

***

“Maybe we can board this one,” Catherine puffed, pointing to the large, wooden ship.

“How will we? You gave the innkeeper the last of the money,” I said. Catherine sighed.

“I know, but maybe they will take something else. We must try,” she said. Something else? Like what? The only valuable possession Catherine had brought with her was her necklace, and it was probably around the neck of the barge owner’s wife by now.

Catherine walked up to the ship’s captain. I watched her argue with him. He looked down at her clothing. He nodded his head and strolled away. Catherine eagerly joined us.

“He says since I am a merchant’s wife, he will take me,” she smiled. Her disguise was working!

We followed her up the plank and down into the hold. It was very dark. It was cold. And it smelled awful. The place was small, and I squeezed up against Edith. Cold air seeped through the walls. The boat jerked, and we were on our way. 

***

I barely heard the frightened cries of little Susan. A strong, fierce wind pounded on the sides of the boat. Rain came down in torrents, making water drip into the damp hold. I could hear the cries and yells of the sailors overhead. My heart pounded. What would happen to us? Would the boat sink? Would we drown? I looked frantically at Catherine. She rocked Susan and quietly sang a song. How could she be so calm? I sank back against the wall. Catherine had faith; that’s why. She was trusting in God. I took a deep breath.

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Psalm 23: 4

A wave of assurance swept over me. God is here, watching over us. I was able to lay down and close my weary eyes.

***

I woke up the next morning and looked around. Catherine, Edith and Agnes were gone. I walked sleepily out on the deck. I gasped. We weren’t in the Netherlands at all! We were back on the tiny Leigh dock where we started. Catherine was talking to the captain. I pulled Edith aside.

“What has happened?” I asked.

“The winds drove us back,” she sighed. “We’re going to try and sail again this afternoon. Catherine is not very happy.” I didn’t blame her. Someone could spot us. Catherine finished talking to the captain and joined our group.

“Captain Miller says we will sail in an hour. Helen, run to shore and get some provisions.”

“With what?” I asked. Catherine handed me some money.

“This is from the captain,” she said. “Buy food for us, the captain, and the crew. Understood?” I nodded my head and raced down the gangplank. I had barely made it off the harbor when someone grabbed my shoulder. I screamed.

“Who’s on that boat?” a rough voice asked. I turned. Two men stood in front of me.

“Why?” I asked. “What is it to you?” My heart pounded.

“We’re looking for a woman named Catherine Bertie. Know her?” the other asked.

“No. That lady is a merchant’s wife,” I said.

“Oh, really. A merchant’s wife with three servants?” I gulped.

“Well-I-she-“ I stuttered.

“Yes?” the rough one asked.

“We’re just traveling with her,” I said. “Besides, do you think this ‘Catherine’ would travel in broad daylight? Men, I think you’re wasting your time,” I said, walking away. I could feel them staring me down as I walked on. I rounded the corner and let out a sigh. That was too close for comfort.

Exactly an hour later, we sailed for the Netherlands. It was a beautiful day for sailing. The wind blew my hair. The sun shined down. We made good time and reached the Netherlands before the sunset. We dressed in Dutch clothes, so as not to be noticed. We got off the large ship and headed into town. Richard was residing at a nearby inn. We went inside and found his room. Catherine knocked quietly. The door opened an inch, then all the way.

“Catherine!” Richard exclaimed, pulling us inside. “You’re here!” They embraced, and Richard took Susan from my hands. He kissed her soft cheek. Catherine filled him in on everything that had happened - from the escape to the men who questioned me at Leigh.

“Where to now?” Catherine asked her husband. I could tell she was glad to have him in charge now.

“Santon,” he replied. “It’s in the province of Cleveland. We’ll leave as soon as you’re up to it.”

“Let’s leave soon,” she said. So later that day, Catherine, Richard, the girls and I, and Hugh and Samuel set out for Santon. It would take a long time to walk to Santon. Richard had some money, so we bought provisions and started the long journey.

By the time we had almost reached Santon, it had been two, long weeks. The town was seen faintly below from the road we were walking on. It was getting dark, so we set up camp like we did every night. Richard built a fire, and we made supper. It was dark now, and the only light we had was the glow of the sparking fire.

“Helen? Would you please get some water from the stream at the bottom of the hill?” Catherine asked. I picked up the bucket and started down the pitch-black hill. I could hear the rippling stream nearby. Suddenly, my foot caught on something and I tumbled. Pain shot up my leg. I rolled down and down, gaining speed every second. I screamed and landed with a flop at the bottom of the hill. I lay there, stunned. Catherine and Richard came running down.

“Oh, Helen, are you all right?” Catherine panted, kneeling beside me. I could feel blood on my right leg. It ached terribly.

“Let’s bring her up by the fire so we can see,” Richard said, picking me up. They climbed the hill and sat me down by the warm fire.

“That’s a nasty cut,” Richard said.

“What happened, Helen?” Catherine asked.

“I think I tripped on some briars,” I replied. Catherine carefully went to the stream and got some water with the bucket I had dropped. Richard made a makeshift bandage out of his handkerchief.

“There, that ought to hold,” he said. It stung badly.

“She’s right,” Catherine said, coming up the hill. “There are some clumps of thorns and briars down here.”

That night, I didn’t get much sleep. It was very cold. My leg hurt, and I was very hungry.

We got up early the next day and headed down the road to Santon. I hobbled along, half leaning on Edith’s shoulder. We reached Santon shortly, and Richard led us to an inn. With some of his money, he rented three small rooms. We stayed in the city more than two weeks.

Richard still didn’t feel very comfortable in the town. One day, he said, “I’ve learned about a free city nearby named Wesel. Some French-speaking people have gathered there to escape religious persecution,” he said.

“Are you saying we should leave?” Catherine asked.

“Yes. I have the feeling we are being watched here in Santon,” he said.

“How will get there?” Catherine asked.

“We’ll walk. But I think it would be best if we take only two servants with us,” he said.

“You’re right. It would look strange to see so many people leaving. We will take Helen and Edith,” Catherine suggested.

“All right. Hugh, Samuel, and Agnes can stay here. We will sneak out,” he said.

So that afternoon, we took a pleasant walk outside of town. This was merely a ruse, however. In reality, we were leaving Santon and heading towards Wesel. A mile outside of Santon, a rain began to fall. It wasn’t an ordinary rain, but a cold, freezing rain. It was now February, and there was ice and snow on the ground. The rain started to thaw the ice on the road, making it very difficult to travel. I remember slipping many times, and getting back up, only to fall again. It was hard to see ahead of us because the rain came down in sheets. Richard walked in front, carrying Susan. Catherine walked beside him, wearing his cloak and carrying his sword. We walked on and on, soaked to the bones. The rain continued to fall. For four, tiring hours we walked, stopping only a few times to rest. It was 6:00, when we finally reached Wesel. I was so eager to finally be able to go inside a warm, dry building. But, I would have to wait. No inn would accept us. We knocked on dozens of doors, but since we were foreigners, no one wanted us. In desperation, Richard found an enclosed porch on the side of a church. He planned for us to spend the night there. Nearby, a man ran down the darkened street, trying to reach shelter from the rain. Richard stopped him.

“Sir, do you know somewhere we could stay?” he asked. The man looked at him funny, and said something in a foreign language. Then, he left.

“I wonder what he said,” Richard sighed. “I think it was Dutch.”

Susan wailed with cold and hunger. I tried to calm her. Catherine wept. Richard led us to the porch and we spread some blankets around.

“I’ll see if I can buy some coals for a fire and hay to make things a little more comfortable,” he said. And he vanished into the cold, dark street. I pulled a blanket around Susan and me. I tried to warm her little frozen hands and feet. Her blue eyes looked pleadingly at me. I kissed her cold cheek and rocked her. I tried to sing the lullaby she loved so much. The music sent soft echoes into the stillness of the night.

Richard ran through the streets trying to find a store that was open. It was dark, and he saw no one. Suddenly, he saw two boys hurrying along. They chattered to each other. His heart leaped. They were talking in Latin! He knew Latin. Richard called out to them.

“Aliquam erat! Hello there!” he cried. The boys turned to look at him.

“Are there any French-speaking people around here?” Richard asked in Latin. One boy answered back.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you wish us to take you there?” he asked. Richard told them yes, and that he would go get his wife. He ran back to the porch and told Catherine.

“Oh, how wonderful!” she exclaimed. We gathered our things, and followed Richard to where the young boys waited. The boys led us through the dark streets and to a quiet little neighborhood. There was a wide street and houses with white fences lining it. They led us to a house where a candle was lit in the window. The moonlight shined down as we made our way to the door. The boys left, and Richard knocked. I waited anxiously for someone to open the door. Suddenly, we heard footsteps. The latch was unlocked, and the door opened. An older man stood there. He gasped.

“Catherine Bertie! Richard!” he cried. Tears spilled down his face as he saw their pitiful condition.

“Francis Persusell! Oh, it’s so nice to see you!” Catherine exclaimed, as he let them in. Francis was an English minister that Catherine and Richard had known a long time ago.

Francis led them into the living room. It was a cozy room, with a bright fire, and a bench.

“Please, sit down,” he said. “I insist you stay the night here. Tomorrow, I can arrange for a house for you to live in,” he said. Francis brought in some warm food and milk.

“Thank you so much, Francis,” Catherine said.

Later that night, Catherine and Richard sat and talked to Francis and his wife, Ellen. Edith and I sat by the crackling fire. It was so warm, and it was so nice to be in a comfy home, instead of a cold porch. I pulled out my little red diary and began to write.

February 3, 1555

Dearest diary,

I’m in a house, dry and warm. My hunger has been satisfied. Francis Persusell welcomed us into his house tonight. He is an old friend of Catherine and Richard. God has been extremely gracious to us on our journey. If we ever needed anything, He always supplied it. We’ve been through much - a frightening escape, hunger, cold and storms. But he cared for us through it all. I know not what lies ahead, but I do know one thing. He will be there, guiding us every step of the way.