Jane gives birth on 12 October, at two in the morning. The courier makes good time and they wake him with the news. ‘Man or maid?’ he asks, and they tell him. By eight o’clock all London knows it. At nine o’clock they sing Te Deum at Paul’s. It is St Edward’s Eve, and the child will be named for the saint. Rafe has been ordered back to court. The queen’s official letter goes out in his hand, phrased as if she had gripped the quill and scrawled it herself: grace of Almighty … a prince, conceived in most lawful matrimony … joyous and glad tidings … universal wealth, quiet and tranquillity of this whole realm … Tranquillity? All day they fire off guns at the Tower, as if to puncture the clouds. There are feasts in every alley. The generous merchants of the Steelyard get the poor folk drunk on beer. The horns, bagpipes and drums continue long after dark.
