The Illegitimate Tudor

by James M Stuart

  *

  All but two of the alleged adulterers were found guilty and sentenced to death, including the queen and her brother. Sir Richard Page and Sir Thomas Wyatt were freed as no evidence was found against them. On the seventeenth of May, all the guilty ones were beheaded before a jeering crowd in Tower Hill.

  Archbishop Cranmer pronounced the king’s marriage to Anne Boleyn null and void, making Princess Elizabeth a bastard. King Henry wasted no time and asked for a dispensation to be granted to him and Lady Jane Seymour, so they could be married, as they were distant relatives. Nobody but me seemed to have expected the king to wish to remarry so soon, let alone with Lady Jane with whom, word had it, did not even have carnal knowledge. However, she was clearly more suited for a king such as him, for she was quiet, obedient and kept her opinion to herself. In other words, she was the perfect wife for a tyrant like King Henry.

  On the nineteenth of the same month, Anne Boleyn, the woman that had caused such a turmoil to the English Court for almost a decade, and for whom King Henry had split ties with the Catholic Church to marry her, was about to die in Tower Green.

  Anne climbed the recently constructed dais wearing a plain white dress. Her hair was tied in a bun and was later covered with a nightcap to keep it from obscuring her neck, which was soon to be severed. She would be beheaded by a sword, for it seemed King Henry had really loved her, after all, and wanted to provide her with a painless instant death, rather than a chopping axe.

  She came forth and addressed the people who had gathered to witness her execution. ‘I have come here today… To die,’ she started; ‘though I am innocent, and that I swear it before God Almighty. I beg you, pray for King Henry and for his good health and long reign. And may he see the truth behind the lies of incompetent and cruel men.’ She then kneeled and placed her head on the wooden block which was led at the front of her. The execution was swift; in the blink of an eye. There was a slashing sound, and her head was removed from her shoulders.

  I felt my vision blurring, and I realised the whole scene was somehow familiar to me. As her head dropped to the ground, her startling black eyes came to a position that stared into my own.

  ‘There will be consequences, Edward!’ Father Edmund’s voice whispered in my ears. ‘Her blood is in your hands!’

  I looked at my body, and I was surprised to see I was in my full armour and in my hands, I was holding my longsword, Defier, and it was bloody as if I had been the one who had beheaded Anne Boleyn. This was my own personal war, and it had reached a critical point, but I had killed the wrong person…

  Thomas Boleyn had been arrested on suspicion of treason and was held in the Tower of London under guard. I hoped that he would follow his son and daughter to the execution’s block and at last justice would be delivered and my family’s, Aeron’s and Eleanor’s souls rested.

  ‘So, it ends!’ said Suffolk, who was standing beside me.

  ‘No! It doesn’t,’ I countered. ‘Not until the real responsible loses his head.’

  ‘Are you talking about Thomas Boleyn?’

  ‘Yes!’ I said nodding.

  ‘Well, naturally he was deprived of all his offices, including the Lord Privy Seal, but no evidence of treason was found against him, Sir Edward. He was released earlier this morrow.’

  ‘What? He was freed?’ It was preposterous, unthinkable, unjustified.

  As the lifeless head of Anne Boleyn was retrieved and covered with a cloth, I turned and left the scene of the crime. My legs transferred me back to Whitehall Palace as though they belonged to someone else. I was looking for Thomas Boleyn, but he was nowhere to be found. I was beginning to worry that he had already fled the city. Indeed, one of his old servants confirmed that he had seen him gathering his belongings from his apartments and leaving the palace that very morrow on board a carriage.

  I ran to the stables and saddled my horse which I rode straight to the heart of London. Where would Boleyn go? Kent was my first thought, as there lied Hever Castle, which was the seat of the Boleyn family for decades.

  Thus, I trusted my instinct and rode south-east in the open country, with my sword in my scabbard ready to taste Boleyn’s blood, for nothing else mattered anymore. I had resulted in the death of innocent men and women in order to get to him, but instead, he had been released. I would deliver justice for myself then, for it was clear no one was able to give it to me…

  I found Thomas Boleyn’s carriage near the south bank of Thames, he had not gone far, and my rapid horse had quickly caught up with him. The carriage was driven by an unknown man, but I was confident Boleyn was inside it.

  ‘Stop the carriage,’ I said riding next to it and drawing my sword.

  The driver panicked, apparently thinking I wanted to rob them. He pulled the reins so abruptly to bring the horses to a halt that they protested.

  ‘Take the one horse and leave without looking back,’ I instructed the driver, and he obeyed without questions.

  ‘What happened? Why have you stopped?’ said a man’s voice from inside the carriage and a moment later the head of Thomas Boleyn appeared from the side window.

  ‘Get out!’ I commanded him, as I climbed off my horse.

  ‘It’s you!’ he exclaimed getting off the carriage. ‘What are you doing here? What do you want from me?’

  ‘Your life!’ I said putting my left hand around his neck, whilst with my right pointed my sword at the centre of his chest.

  ‘What are you waiting for, then? You took everything from me. You and your friend Cromwell cost me my station of power and my good name at court.’

  ‘That’s it? You’re not even going to mention your son and daughter, you filth?’ I wondered in surprise. ‘Tell me, did you watch them die? Did you not feel remorse? Your actions placed them in the executioner’s block.’

  ‘You conspired against my family.

  I squeezed my left hand around his neck, slowly choking him. ‘YOU SLAUGHTERED MY FAMILY! YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE! Yet you show no regret! What sort of monster are you?’

  He did not answer, he just stared at me with angry eyes, and there was nothing that could stop me strangle him with my bare hands or simply running my sword through his heart. Yet somehow, I could not bring myself to do it. I spent years of dreaming punishing the one responsible for my misery, but now that the moment had arrived something had changed. So much blood had been spilt already. Killing Thomas Boleyn would not bring my family back and neither Aeron nor Eleanor. Boleyn’s reputation and name had been utterly destroyed, and he would live the rest of his life in disgrace knowing deep inside him that he had brought this to himself.

  ‘There are worse things than death, Boleyn! I have experienced that myself and now ’tis your turn.’

  ‘So, you’ll let me live?’ he asked and started laughing hysterically.

  I released his throat, I hit him with the pommel of my sword in the head, and he fell unconscious on my feet. I kicked him and punched him with my bare hands, but in the end, I let him live. My work was complete, Thomas Boleyn had been undone.

  *

  What was left for me in this world now that my purpose of revenge had been fulfilled? ‘So many deaths!’ I whispered.

  I was in the chapel, back in the Whitehall Palace that same afternoon; kneeling before a huge crucified Jesus. I was contemplating the words of my family priest and child tutor.

  ‘Forgive me, Father Edmund! You were right.’ Although, I secretly believed that Father Edmund’s voice was truly my conscience talking to me, guided by God Himself.

  ‘I am aware that what I have done should be enough to condemn me in the blazing fires of Hell. I was lost, though! Blinded by my hatred. I wanted to bring justice to my beloved ones’ deaths. Now my conscience is as heavy as it has ever been, for nothing would have happened if it wasn’t for me or if I had not been born a bastard. I CURSE MY FATHER, KING HENRY THE SEVENTH AND ALL THE KINGS THAT FATHER BASTARD CHILDREN!’ I yelled at God and banged my fists down on the cold stone floor
repeatedly, so hard that they bled.

  Steps sounded behind me, people entering the chapel, but I did not bother turning my head to identify them, for I was afraid I knew what was to follow, and when one of them spoke I smiled sadly.

  ‘Sir Edward of York, in the name of King Henry the Eighth, you are arrested for conspiracy and High Treason,’ said the familiar voice of Thomas Cromwell.

  Unknown hands pulled me into a standing position, but I did not protest, I willingly followed them to the Tower of London.

  EPILOGUE

  The Tower of London

  24th May 1536

  Here I am then, ready to die. Cromwell betrayed me and had me arrested, for I am too dangerous to be left alive. Yes, I was expecting that, and I do not grieve, I am not saddened, for I have nothing left in this life. With the exception of Belfrigh, everyone I loved is dead, their blood on my hands, their deaths upon my shoulders and I am eager to lift this weight off and depart this cruel world.

  My prosecutors found me guilty and sentenced me to death by hanging, disembowelling, castrating and be chopped to pieces. However, on my great relief, the recently remarried and joyous King Henry was merciful and has decided to have me executed by decapitation. An unexpected feeling of gratitude has filled my heart ever since, for I did not wish to suffer a painful death. I wonder if the king is really fond of me, or he is just granting me his mercy as a brother, for surely Cromwell must have told him the truth.

  Yestereve, Belfrigh came to visit me, spending his limited time on my cell trying to think of a way to free me, but whatever he thought was no good, for my enemy now is Cromwell and I cannot fight against him. ‘His time will come, Belfrigh, and I hope you will still be alive to witness the fall of one of the greatest deceivers of our age. Unfortunately, I won’t!’ I said, and I believed it, I had accepted my fate…

  Later, a priest came to give me the last rites and receive my confession.

  ‘Is there something you wish to confess, my child?’ the priest asked solemnly.

  ‘Tell him!’ said the sweet voice of Eleanor in my ears and as I turned my head in the direction of her voice I saw her sitting clearly next to me. She had never looked more beautiful. Her red hair was loose upon her shoulders and her green eyes shining like the rubies in the king’s crown. ‘Repent, Edward! And we may be together again!’

  ‘I confess I’m guilty of terrible deeds, Father,’ I admitted to the priest. ‘I ask for forgiveness, for I am but a mortal man filled with flaws and wickedness.’

  The priest crossed me on the forehead with his thumb which he had first dipped in holy water. Then he gave me the Holy Sacrament and said: ‘Only God possesses the power to forgive you, my child; but repenting is the first step. Tell me, now! What terrible deeds have you committed?’

  And so, I told him my story, everything that had happened since the day my parents had perished. I told him of all the things I regretted and all the deaths I had caused, even the ones I had killed in battle, for they did not seem to deserve it; they had been forced to fight by their leaders and were blinded by greed. We are all humans and bound to have weaknesses and be sinners. In the end, I was weeping like a little child that craved for its mother’s milk, for I had gone a long way and I was tired, and my heart was heavy…

  ‘Sir Edward! ’Tis time!’ I hear the guard saying, and I stand up to follow him.

  Tower Hill is full of curious folk this morrow; eager to observe yet another execution. Walking up the dais, I see the wooden block, stained forever by the blood of numerous men and women that have died upon it. Strangely enough, I feel this crowd is going to witness a rare occasion of justice taking place here today, for I am to die with my head upon the same spot where the people I had indirectly killed had.

  I raise my head, looking up into the blue, cloudless sky for the last time, birds flying away from this damned place. Folk are staring, waiting for me to address them, say some final words that may justify why I am here; so, I oblige them.

  ‘My good folk! I will not ask you to pray for me nor will I plead for mercy, for I have accepted the consequences of my actions and my imminent death, which I welcome. I ask for forgiveness only from God, for He is the one who is going to judge me for my actions here on Earth.’

  I pause and look down in the crowd, searching for familiar faces. There is Belfrigh, a sad expression upon his face, his eyes wet as if ready to cry. Next to him the Duke of Suffolk, also looking saddened. A little further Sir Francis Bryan winking at me with his remaining eye. I direct my look further down the line, and I now gaze upon more familiar figures of people who are not supposed to be here, then again, I see them as clearly as the sun…

  There is my mother Elizabeth and my sisters Margot and sweet Jane next to my step-father Thomas. Aeron with his Welsh bow on his back and his left arm around poor Agnese next to whom is unmistakably the woman of my life, Eleanor. They are all smiling at me, and I know they hold no grudge against me and do not grant me responsible for their deaths. They are calling me, encouraging me to join them, and it is with a smile on my lips that I kneel and place my head on the bloody block, and the slashing of the axe delivers my soul to my beloved ones’ side, and I am free at last.

  Historical Note

  Henry Tudor was the son of Margaret Beaufort and Edmund Tudor. England was in turmoil and civil war as the Houses of Lancaster and York fought ‘the Wars of the Roses’ between 1455 and 1487. Henry’s claim to the English throne came from his mother, who was a descendant of King Edward III. Henry had lived in France in exile for fourteen years but returned to England with a large force and defeated King Richard III in the battle of Bosworth Field, putting an end to the ‘Wars of the Roses’ and claiming the crown for himself, and being named King Henry VII. He then married Elizabeth of York, the daughter of the former King Edward IV uniting the two ‘Roses’ and giving birth to the dynasty of the Tudors.

  Henry and Elizabeth had four children: Arthur, Margaret, Henry and Mary. Prince Arthur of Wales and heir to the throne was married to Catherine of Aragon, a marriage that would conciliate an alliance between England and Spain. However, Arthur died unexpectedly six months later. It was therefore arranged for Catherine to marry Arthur’s younger brother Henry. When King Henry VII died in 1509 his second son ascended the throne as King Henry VIII.

  King Henry VIII of England is arguably the most infamous king in English history. His legacy can be seen until now in the modern world, for he was the one who created the Church of England breaking away from the Catholic Church and the Papal authority. Henry’s capricious and unstable character changed the whole kingdom forever and shaped the future. His obsession with fathering a son was derived by the desire to preserve the legacy of his father and continue the Tudor dynasty. The most likely reason he wanted to divorce his wife Catherine, with whom they had been together for twenty-four years, was the fact that she could not give him a son. However, Henry claimed that his conscience was troubled for he suspected that Catherine had consummated her marriage with his late brother Arthur.

  Henry was seduced by a woman called Anne Boleyn and he sought to annul his marriage with Catherine, so he could be wed to Anne and finally have the son he so craved. This became known as the ‘King’s Great Matter’ and it went on for six whole years. The pope though would not give him the annulment, and so Henry eventually broke off his kingdom from the See of Rome and married Anne Boleyn. Ironically, Anne’s three pregnancies produced a single living child: a daughter.

  Their marriage lasted barely three years. The combination of Henry’s explosive temperament and Anne’s inability to maintain a low profile led to her downfall. Anne and her family had made powerful enemies who wanted to see their faction defeated. Thus, they conspired to bring an end to the Boleyn dominance in the English Court; Thomas Cromwell being the chief conspirator. There is an argument about whether Anne was guilty of the treacherous deeds she was accused of, but it is widely believed that she was innocent. Nonetheless, she was found guilty of High T
reason for adultery and was beheaded on the nineteenth of May 1536.

  After Anne Boleyn’s execution, Henry married Jane Seymour with whom he had, at last, a son named Edward and who would later become Edward VI, although he died at the young age of fifteen.

  Thomas Cromwell met his end when he arranged the marriage between the king and the protestant Anne of Cleves after Jane Seymour had died in childbirth. The marriage was a failure and was never consummated for Henry found his new wife appalling and not the beauty he had expected when seeing her portrait. Inevitably, Henry turned the blame on Cromwell, whose enemies had been long expecting a misstep from him. His downfall was swift and unmerciful. He was arrested on the tenth of June 1540 for an extensive list of charges, most of them being true. He was sentenced to death without a trial and was beheaded in Tower Hill on the twenty-eighth of July 1540.

  Henry went on to have another two wives. Catherine Howard was his fifth wife and just seventeen years old. However, she lasted barely over a year as Queen Consort, for she was accused of treason and adultery and was eventually executed. His sixth and last wife was Catherine of Parr who actually outlived him.

  Henry’s chronic health problems, mainly the fact that he had become obese and could barely move, hastened his decline. He died on the twenty-eighth of January 1547 at the age of fifty-five.

  The story of Edward of York, bastard son of King Henry VII is entirely fictional. Henry VII did have an illegitimate son; however, it is more likely that he fathered him during his years of exile in France, long before he had taken the throne of England.

  This novel incorporates this exciting period in history with the fictional story of Edward and his journey of revenge and redemption. Many parts of this story, although, fictionalised, are based on real historical events; such as, the Sack of Rome in 1527; the plague of 1529; the continuous dispute between England, France, Spain and the Holy Roman Empire for dominance in Europe; the efforts and failure of Thomas Wolsey to annul the king’s marriage; Thomas More and the prosecution of heretics; the dissolution of the monasteries; the jousting tournament and the king’s head injury; the fall of Anne Boleyn and the role Cromwell played.