by Anne Stevens
“We Venetians are a practical bunch,” Bartolommeo explains to his English friend. “Once mourning is finished, a dozen young men will be knocking at her door. She is still only twenty two, and has a small fortune to bring to any new marriage.”
“What of love?” The poet in Tom Wyatt is a little offended by so mercenary an approach to the business.
“You cannot eat love, Tomas,” the Doge’s nephew replies, sagely.
The swift galley, from Genoa to Marseilles is the gentle precursor to a long, twenty day ride up to the English stronghold of Calais, where the four strong party report to the English governor of the outpost.
“News of your coming has caused much activity between London and Calais, Captain Draper,” the governor says, offering Will a refill of strong red wine. “The king commands that you take ship, whatever the weather in the channel, and go to him, at Whitehall Palace. I gather he is excited by the progress made by yourself, and Master Wyatt.”
“We but delivered a message to the Bishop of Rome, sir,” Will replies. “Now, we return with nothing more than his answer.”
“But such an answer,” the governor says. “Though it is not yet common knowledge, the Pope’s refusal to grant an annulment is set to shake the world. I hear that Henry is already calling himself ‘the defender of the faith’, and strutting about as if he were already married to La Boleyn, and his poor wife put aside.”
“I am sympathetic to the Dowager Princess of Wales’ plight, sir, but it is her own stubbornness that creates most of her difficulties.” Will has little time for political intrigues, but has been taught the basic responses by Thomas Cromwell.
“There are those who wish to trip us up,” he preaches to his young men, “and we must be ever on guard.” Then he will ask an opinion, and refine your views, so as to avoid causing offence to any, save the king’s enemies.
“Of course,” the governor replies, hurriedly altering his stance. Draper is a Cromwell man, and, until recently, the governor has been on cordial terms with the Lord Chancellor. “Your master has my fullest support, sir.”
“I am sure he has,” Tom Wyatt says, strolling into the elegantly furnished room. “For Master Cromwell’s views are in line with the king’s, and Henry thinks for the entire realm. What news from England, sir? Is More still bragging of how he has Clement’s ear? Does the Bishop of Winchester still balance on his high wall, wondering which way to leap?”
“The Lord Chancellor still holds his office, but I fear the king pays little heed to him, since Master Cromwell’s success in goading His Holiness into denying the king’s will. I worry for our future, Master Wyatt.”
“And Stephen Gardiner?” Will Draper asks. He knows that the man was a close friend of Cromwell’s, and still has his master’s sympathy, if nothing else. “I trust he is keeping to himself in Winchester?”
“The bishop seems to be quite close to His Majesty again,” the governor replies. “I believe he is providing ecclesiastical support for the king, as Master Cromwell gives him legal, and judicial advice.”
“Wise fellow,” Tom Wyatt says, sarcastically. “Let me extemporise…” The poet thinks for a moment, then begins to recite.
Watch carefully now,
the bishop creep,
to fawn and bow,
his lord to keep.
O, decisive fellow,
With his canon law,
Doth now mellow,
T’wards the Boleyn whore.
“Dear Christ, man!” the governor cries, looking swiftly about the room. “What possesses you that you should even think such a thought, let alone write it down!”
“Come sir, we are all friends here,” Tom Wyatt says, smiling at his two companions. “What think you of my little poem, sir?”
“Amusing, no doubt,” the man replies. “You might recite it as you mount the scaffold. Why, the king will have you drawn, and quartered for this. You mad fool.”
“You would tell on me?” The poet looks perplexed. “But you love the old queen, and mistrust Anne Boleyn, sir.”
“Perhaps, but I love my country more, and if divorce, and remarriage will keep England from civil strife, I am for the king.”
“Well said, sir,” Will Draper says, finishing his wine. “You were the last task on our list, and we can now sail for England.”
“I, a task?” The governor is confused.
“Master Wyatt was charged with testing your loyalty, sir,” Will Draper replies. “Had you shown any lack of loyalty, we were to report it to our master.”
“Dear God, Cromwell suspects me?”
“No longer,” Will tells the white faced diplomat. “Rest assured, both Tom and I shall vouch for you. Though a small gift to my master might not go amiss. He is very fond of Flemish silverware, and a set of nicely engraved chargers will make him think fondly of you.”
“Never do that to me again, Tom,” Will says, as they leave the governor’s house. “The man would have denounced you at the first opportunity. What possessed you … I mean to say … the Boleyn whore!”
“Forgive me, friend,” Tom Wyatt replies with a sigh, “but my tongue often betrays my brain in matters of love.”
“Love?” Will is unsure what love has to do with Wyatt’s wicked little ditty. He runs it through his mind again, and can see nothing but a sly dig at Gardiner, and a rude reference to the future queen of England.
“Aye, Will… love. For what man can ever win, the love of she, my sweet Boleyn.”
“That’s enough!” Will takes his friend by the shoulder, and shakes him, hard. “There are enough slanders going about without you adding fuel to the fire.”
“Slanders?” Tom Wyatt laughs then; a wild unnerving laugh, that speaks volumes to Will Draper. “Tell me, my friend, when once you have sipped of that sweet Italian wine, how can you return to rough French red, or common ale?”
“Will you shut up, Tom?” Will replies. “Or must I have Richard come and knock you senseless?”
“What’s this?” Richard Cromwell saunters towards them, with Mush at his elbow. They have been wandering the dirty, shabbier parts of Calais. “I’ll gladly bang Tom’s head against a wall, but for what reason?”
“Don’t tell me,” Mush groans. “Master Wyatt is madly in love with the Lady Anne, and wishes to spout out his undying love to her.”
“Do not jest about it,” Will hisses. “If the king hears anymore about Anne and Tom, he will demand an enquiry be made, and that can only end badly.”
“She bids me come to her,” the poet says, almost groaning. “Then, one might touch her hand, and receive a smile. Later she allows more. The flash of an ankle, or the swell of a bosom. I try to blot her from my mind, with other women. So many others. But no, she is my muse.”
“She will be your executioner,” Will retorts, sharply. “You cannot return to England, until the lady is safely married.”
“Why cannot I have my love?” Tom Wyatt mutters. “Though the stars grow cold … ugh!” Richard Cromwell slips the leather covered cosh back up his sleeve and, without any real effort, throws the unconscious poet over one shoulder.
“One of my uncle’s ships is in the harbour, bound for Portugal,” he explains. “It is not a permanent solution, but it will keep him out of England for a couple of months.”
“Then let us pray it is long enough,” Mush says. “For nothing will keep me from my Gwen, and Miriam holds Will’s heart. I would cross a burning desert to be with her.”
“Jesus!” Richard Cromwell says, grinning at his dearest friends. “Everyone wants to be a bloody poet!”
End
Postscript
Though The Condottiero is, essentially, a work of fiction, the story has a solid grounding in fact, and intertwines many real characters from the period into my story. Where a real person is used, I try to keep them ‘in character’, and have them act within the constraints of the age. The condotta were bands of mercenary soldiers, who would contract themselves out to the various city
states of Italy, and fight under strict rules of engagement. To break a contract, was to destroy a condottiero’s honour, and make him a pariah amongst his fellow mercenaries. Malatesta Baglioni was the most infamous of them all, and he led a life that was dominated by treachery and deceit.
Thomas Cromwell was, by late 1531, a prime mover in court politics, and was replacing the Lord Chancellor in Henry’s mind, as the man who could deal with Rome. There is evidence to show that emissaries from King Henry to Pope Clement were active from 1526 onwards, and it is more than likely that Cromwell was proactive with the Papal see from 1531 onwards. The Pope’s refusal to annul Henry’s marriage came in 1532, but would have been discussed within the Pope’s circle earlier.
Rafe Sadler is Cromwell’s right hand man. Born in 1507, he was by his mid twenties, a firm favourite with the Privy Councillor, and was often on hand when Cromwell spoke with the king. Portraits show him to be a ginger haired young man, with a fashionable pointed beard.
Thomas Wendy was a renowned physician at the court of the king, and often in his presence. He would have been a valued source of information to the likes of Eustace Chapuys.
Eustace Chapuys was the Emperor Charles’ ambassador to England during the crisis over the king’s wish for an annulment. He is often described as dapper, and a small, thin faced sort of a man. His wish to do the best he can for Queen Katherine is well documented, but he does not attach any blame to Henry. In a letter to his master, Chapuys was to write: ‘The King himself is not ill-natured; it is this Anne who has put him in this perverse and wicked temper, and alienates him from his former humanity.’ His ambassadorial residence was next to Austin Friars, and he was a close friend of Thomas Cromwell.
Pope Clement was a member of the infamous Medici family, and was noted for his corruption, and political infamies. He is considered a prime mover, with the Holy Roman Emperor, against the city state of Florence, which was captured after an Italian soldier of fortune, the condottiero, Malatesta Baglioni turned traitor. There is evidence that Clement made several attempts to marry his illegitimate son Alessandro Medici into one of the various royal families of the time, and was not above bribery and corruption to gain his ends.
Alessandro Medici became the Duke of Florence in 1532, after taking the city in 1531. It is now widely accepted that he was the son of a black African servant girl, and the man who was to become Pope Clement. He kept one lover for the whole of his short life, despite marrying Margaret of Austria, the illegitimate daughter of Charles V. Considered by many to be one of the worst of the Medici family, Alessandro, known as il Moro, because of his ‘Moorish’ skin tone was suspected of poisoning his own brother, and finally died at the hands of an assassin, on January 6th 1537.
Tom Wyatt, apart from being an up and coming poet at this time, was a roving ambassador for the English court, and spent long periods of time in France, and Italy. He was once an assistant to Lord Bedford, emissary to Rome in 1526/27.
Stephen Gardiner was, primarily a lawyer, specialising in church matters, who gained the confidence of King Henry. After spells in France, as a negotiator, he returned to England, where he was made into the Bishop of Winchester, at Henry’s insistence. Noted for sitting on the political wall, Gardiner swapped allegiances several times, dependant on the king’s moods.
Sir Thomas More struggled to reconcile his political life with his religious beliefs, and managed to upset all the major players in the ‘annulment’ game. By the end of 1531, his career was on a knife edge, and he was being edged into early retirement. Though he clung on to the Lord Chancellorship for a few more months, Anne Boleyn was intent on his downfall. Thomas Cromwell seems to have played a rather passive part in More’s removal, though he was active in the Lord Chancellor’s eventual downfall.
Thomas Audley, born in 1488 is, at this time, Speaker of the House of Commons, and a trusted advisor to the king, and his inner circle of friends. He was a friend of Cromwell’s and finds advancement because of his support.
Richard Cromwell was the nephew of Thomas, and worked alongside him in various capacities. I have taken some liberties with his general strength, and hearty character, but his various biographies describe him as ‘tough’ and ‘hard’, and state that he held an unswerving loyalty, and devotion for his uncle. In later years, he spent some time in the military. He was the son of Thomas Cromwell’s sister, and changed his name from Williams, to Cromwell when he joined his uncles household.
Malatesta Baglioni was a notorious condottiero, infamous for his betrayal of the Florentine Republic to the Medici family, and Charles V. He was born in 1491, and died in December, 1531, by which time he was the lord of Perugia, Bettona, and Spello, in Umbria.
He was the son of Gian Paolo Baglioni, ruler of Perugia, and Ippolita Conti. By the age of fifteen the precocious young man was made Count of Bettona. Later, during the brutal Italian Wars, he served the Republic of Venice, capturing the cities of Lodi, and Cremona. In 1527 he was lord of Perugia, after eliminating his brother, and then his uncle.
Contracted out to assume the defence of the Republic of Florence, the condottiero broke his solemn vow, and connived with Pope Clement VII, and the Imperial forces to betray the city. His treason was revealed on 3rd August 1530, at the Battle of Gavinana, in which the Florentine force, under Francesco Ferrucci was utterly destroyed by the Imperial army. Ferrucci's distraught exclamation ‘Ahi traditor Malatesta!’ has remained a famous remark in Italian culture.
Baglioni was then able to return to Perugia in September, 1530. Once uncovered, as a traitor, his only friend would have been the Pope, which lends credence to my fiction of a Venetian invasion plot. He was in Umbria during the period of my story and, after a colourful life, died there at the end of the year 1531.
Andrea Gritti was born in 1455. He was the Doge of Venice from 1523 to 1538, following a distinguished diplomatic, and military career. He was born in Bardolino, near Verona, but spent much of his early life in Constantinople, working as a grain merchant, and looking after Venetian political interests. By 1510, after some bad military reverses, he was put in charge of the Venetian armed forces, and recaptured Padua and Verona from the Emperor’s clutches.
Recognised as one of the city’s greatest ever Doges, he continued to intrigue against Venice’s many enemies, with some success. He died in December 1538, at the age of eighty three!
San Gemini is a small municipality of about 5000 inhabitants, in the province of Terni in the Italian region of Umbria, located about 35 miles south of Perugia, and about 6 miles northwest of Terni. The town is a well-preserved medieval burgh with two lines of walls, built over the remains of a small Roman outpost, along the old Via Flaminia. The action I describe, is fictional.
Edward Wotton Born in 1492, Wotton became a noted physician, and is acknowledged as one of the first truly great zoologists. He was widely travelled, and a friend of the Duke of Norfolk. He was in Venice at the period of this story, and I can only apologise to his shade for intimating that he was a spy, in the pay of Thomas Cromwell.
Ignatius Loyola became the founding father of the Jesuit movement in later years, but spent the period before, travelling Europe, looking for men of character, who wished to become God’s soldiers. I have no evidence that puts him in Italy at this time, but his travels took him, time and again, to Paris, Rome and Venice. Once again, I apologise to him for making him into something he may not have been.
Lodovico Falier and Mario Savorgnano, though minor characters in the story, both existed. Lodovico was the Venetian ambassador to the court of King Henry at this time, and the splendidly named Mario Savorgnano is mentioned in court papers, as a Venetian gentleman, ‘travelling for pleasure’.
My apologies to Thomas Wyatt for putting poetry into his mouth, which I wrote, and which lacks his style. My only excuse is that I am a fiction writer, and must use some devices to move the story along.
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