Moth To The Flame

by Angela Warwick

  He was greatly concerned for Anne’s safety. Twice whilst supping with friends in the city she had only narrowly escaped from being overwhelmed by mobs of enraged women. These women reasoned that if the King set a precedent for discarding a wife because she no longer pleased her husband, then every married woman could be under threat. The people were also aware that Durham House was her official residence, and the estate was constantly under siege. The King realised with horror that there were more guards at Durham protecting her than there were actually guarding his own person. Something had to be done. The only solution was for Anne to give up her home and return to the comparative safety of the court.

  Anne had been half hoping that he would suggest such a solution for several weeks, loath though she was to give up that small amount of independence. The mobbing had badly frightened her and she did not care for the isolation of Durham, half expecting to have to flee for her life in the middle of the night should the mob gain entry to the house.

  She was re-installed at court in a magnificent suite of rooms adjoining the King’s own apartments, in time for the Christmas celebrations. The court had by now realised that the King truly intended to make her his wife and flocked to her standard, leaving Catherine to spend Christmas virtually alone. Even so, since the King still had not officially separated from her, they still continued to appear together at state functions.

  With divorce proceedings to engineer and state business to attend to, Henry found himself becoming estranged from the woman he had sworn to marry. Although he was sure that he loved her more than ever, she had been cooler towards him of late, he decided. So one April morning he adjourned his privy council meeting before it was barely begun and made his way to her apartments. She was quite overjoyed to see him so unexpectedly. “Henry!” she cried, dropping to the floor the book she was reading and running towards his outstretched arms. “I had not thought to see you until this evening!”

  He embraced her hungrily, saying “I felt the need for your companionship. My privy councillors are all very worthy gentlemen, but sadly I only associate their presence with state matters”.

  “No doubt you only associate me with tedious divorce proceedings” she replied sadly.

  “I associate you with love and laughter” he whispered passionately, “but we seem to have had so little time together of late, I have lost track of how you spend your days. Come ...”

  He drew her back to her window seat and they sat close together, holding hands like newlyweds. His eye fell upon her discarded book. “What are you reading?” he asked, bending to retrieve it from the floor. “More French romances?” Carefully keeping his thumb between the pages so she should not lose her place, he closed the slim volume and peered at the spine, reading aloud “The Teachings of Martin Luther”. He looked at her in astonishment. “You know that I published a book denouncing this man and his wickedness several years ago?”

  “Indeed Your Grace” Anne replied carefully, lapsing into formal address lest he become angered by her choice of reading matter. “I was merely interested to read the man’s views and I find he makes several valid points. He reveals a side to religion I had not known existed”.

  Henry, far from displeased to discover in her what could be construed as heretical tendencies, found himself listening closely as she quoted to him various pertinent passages from the book.

  “You truly believe it could become a rival to Catholicism?” he asked her.

  “Truly” she replied firmly, inspired by her small knowledge of Luther’s principles. “You should read this book Henry; it is good for a monarch to keep up with new ideas. It may be some years since this volume was published but Luther’s theories have come to be known as the New Learnings”.

  “You are right” he told her. “I should keep abreast of the times. If you will pass me your book when you are finished, I shall be glad to read it”.

  She smiled at him gratefully. She possessed other tracts frowned on by the church which Henry could now be open to reading and discussing with her. If such came to pass, should any of her enemies get hold of her forbidden books and seek to discredit her with the King, she could laugh in their faces and say, ‘if you believe I am a heretic because I possess such books then you should know that your King too has heretical tendencies, for he has also read them. She was hugging the thought to herself when suddenly Henry spoke. “I have a gift for you, my Anne”.

  Immediately her thoughts shifted. “A gift? Would that be an early birthday or a late New Year’s?”

  They both laughed.

  “A gift because I love you so very much” he told her softly. Putting his hand inside his doublet he drew out a small velvet drawstring purse which he handed to her.

  She had a child’s delight in gifts; the pleasure of receiving much enhanced by the anticipation of what lay within, so she felt the contents carefully through the material, trying to guess what it could be. “An item of jewellery!” she cried triumphantly. “I believe I can feel … pearls?”

  “Possibly” he answered in a mysterious tone. “I designed it especially for you, Anne. Open the pouch”.

  Eagerly she did his bidding, emptying the contents into her lap. “It is pearls!” she cried delightedly, holding a necklace up to the light. It was composed of a double string of pearls; a short string to lie close to the throat and a longer string to reach the bodice. Suspended from the short string was a golden letter “B”, from the bottom of which hung three large drop pearls.

  “It’s beautiful!” she whispered, looking up at him lovingly and then hurling herself into his arms. “And so original! I have never seen the like!”

  She insisted he clasp it around her neck, and once there, she patted the “B” delightedly.

  “What do you take the “B” to stand for?” Henry asked her playfully.

  Surprised by the question, she answered “Why, Boleyn, of course”

  “Wrong”

  “Wrong? I was so sure! But what else could it stand for?” She thought hard for several moments, creasing her brow with intense concentration. Then she laughed. “Tell me Henry! I cannot guess. Tell me now or I shall tickle you mercilessly!” She lifted her hand to the back of his neck and ran her fingers lightly over his skin.

  He squirmed under her touch, crying out in mock terror “Mercy, gentle lady, mercy! I will tell all!”

  “Speak then” she said threateningly, her fingers poised inches above his highly ticklish neck.

  “Let the world think it stands merely for Boleyn” he whispered. But to you and me, it means Betrothed!”

  Chapter 21 – Slow Progress

  Loving Anne as he did, the King continued to shower her family with honours. Her father was created Earl of Wiltshire, whilst George took over his father’s discarded Viscouncy.

  Soon after, the King attended the wedding of the new Viscount Rochford and Jane Parker, daughter of Lord Morley.

  There had been a lull in the divorce proceedings for some months, but at last, on 31st May 1529, Campeggio assembled a court within the priory of Blackfriars to try the King’s case.

  The King told Anne that he and Catherine would be summoned to appear before the court sometime in June. “I would recommend that you retire from the public eye whilst the court is in session” he advised her.

  “You would be rid of me?” she questioned indignantly.

  At once Henry was soothing “No, no of course not sweetheart; I merely assumed you would wish to be well out of the way. It would not do for Campeggio to catch sight of you, for he would then think that the purpose of the divorce was the King’s lust rather than the King’s conscience.

  She raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Which of course would be quite incorrect” she replied slyly.

  “Quite!” agreed the King in a solemn tone.

  “All the same, I would prefer to stay here” she told him. “It takes so long for news to filter through to Hever. The waiting would drive me mad”.

  “As you wish, sweetheart. I
will arrange for a room to be set aside adjoining the courtroom so that you will be able to hear the proceedings”.

  So, on all the days that the court was in session, Anne sat in the small chamber the King had reserved for her. Often, he joined her, until that momentous day in the middle of June when Henry himself was called before the court to answer a charge of living in sin with his brother’s wife. Catherine too was summoned to appear and King and Queen sat at opposite ends of the great chamber, facing each other. However, before Campeggio could proceed, Catherine rose from her chair and walked slowly towards her husband. Henry watched her slow, dignified progress, his chin cupped in his right hand, his fingers drumming against his cheek. However, as she halted before him, curtseyed and then fell to her knees, he straightened in his chair, hands tensely gripping its arms. The expression on his face was close to terror; what was she going to say?

  Meanwhile, Anne, seated in her hiding place, became aware of the tense atmosphere in the adjoining chamber; heard the whispers and uneasy shuffling of feet. She rose from her chair and opened a small peephole in the wall which enabled her to see the scene below.

  Catherine, her eyes fixed imploringly on the King’s face, began to speak. “Sir, I desire you do me right and justice. Bestow your pity on me for I am a poor woman, a stranger born out of your dominions”. Gesturing with her hand towards Wolsey and Campeggio she continued. “Here are no impartial judges!”

  She paused and shuffled closer to Henry, her voice soft. “Sir, how have I offended you? What behaviour of mine has caused you so much displeasure that you should seek to cast me off? As Heaven is my witness I have been your true and humble wife, ever conforming to your will and desires. All friends of yours have become mine also; even those I knew to be my enemies”. Stiffly she rose to her feet and stretched out her arms towards her husband. “Remember Sir that I have been your obedient wife these twenty years and we have had many children, although it has pleased God to call them out of this world”.

  Henry made no acknowledgement that he was hearing her; only the angry flickering of his eyes betrayed the fact that he still breathed. Dejectedly she dropped her arms to her sides, and then summoned her courage to speak publicly of the very fact upon which Henry’s case was based. “And at the first, as God is my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man. Whether it be true or no, I put to your conscience”.

  Eagerly she scanned his face, but his only response was to look away. Addressing the Cardinals she said loudly “This is no court of justice for me. I do not recognise its authority!” She then curtseyed once more to the King and walked slowly towards the great double doors.

  Henry started, and then growled at Wolsey “Have her called back!”

  Steadfastly Catherine continued her progress, ignoring incessant cries of ‘Catherine, Queen of England, come into the court’ until finally she passed from sight.

  All eyes turned to the King. “Proceed without her” he said testily, looking towards the uncovered peephole high in the wall, behind which he knew Anne’s face regarded his.

  And so the tedious case dragged on towards the day fixed for Campeggio to give his verdict and the court to adjourn. As the great moment approached, the court was packed; the public gallery creaking ominously.

  Awkwardly Campeggio got to his feet. “I have listened carefully to the proceedings over the past weeks” he said, avoiding Henry’s eyes. “And due to the great severity of this case, I find myself unable to pass judgement until I have consulted with His Holiness. I therefore adjourn this court for the summer recess; we shall reassemble on October 1st”. His face resumed its characteristic obstinate expression as he dropped back into his seat and a hubbub of excited, incredulous voices filled the courtroom.

  With a roar of displeasure, Henry leapt to his feet and stamped out of the chamber, fixing the Cardinals with a malevolent glare as he passed them. In her upstairs chamber, Anne, who had truly believed that Campeggio would find in the King’s favour, collapsed on to the rush strewn floor in hysterics. Henry strode in, scooped her up without a word and together they returned to the palace at Bridewell.

  Anne had completely lost consciousness due to the tension of the proceedings followed by the shock of realising it was all for nothing and when she eventually opened her eyes she was lying on her bed, still fully clothed. Raising her head she saw Henry sitting by the fireplace, staring moodily into a wine goblet. “Henry?” she said softly. He did not hear. Louder, “Henry!” He started, got to his feet and approached her bed; only then did she see the defeated expression in his eyes.

  He offered her wine from his own goblet. To please him, she took a few sips, her head supported by his arm. “You are recovered?” he enquired.

  “Yes, thank you” she murmured. “I am sorry, I do not usually swoon, but it was such a shock”.

  Henry drained the goblet dry, regarded it with contempt then threw it across the room. “Foreigners!” he spat angrily.

  Raising herself to a sitting position, Anne said casually “I blame Wolsey. Surely he could have influenced Campeggio to find in your favour, had he made the effort!”

  “Your assumption may be correct” Henry said slowly, and with measured consideration. He felt extremely embarrassed by the outcome of the trial; he needed a scapegoat and Wolsey would serve as well as any. Evenly he paced around the room, deep in thought. Anne watched him in silence.

  Eventually he spoke “Wolsey’s failure to secure the required verdict is tantamount to treason. He shall be banished from court. I shall send him to one of his houses in the north; there is no place here for traitors to our cause!”

  Now Henry’s mind was made up, he lost no time. Seating himself at Anne’s writing table he penned a brief note, then called for a page to deliver it to Cardinal Wolsey. Turning around in the chair to face her, Henry said “The deed is done; he will be gone by morning. Now sweetheart, we must prepare to leave on our summer progress!”

  “I have been looking forward to it” she told him, smiling. “What of Catherine?”

  He heaved a deep sigh, rose from the chair and crossed the chamber to sit on the edge of her bed. Patting her hand awkwardly he said “She must accompany us, I fear. She is still the Queen and the people will expect to see her. In order to keep my subjects from revolt, we must keep up appearances”.

  Hesitantly he looked at her, but to his relief she was smiling. “I understand Henry, but you must promise me that you will not forget your loving Lady Rochford for I should be desolate without your very frequent company”.

  “You shall be beside me whenever possible” he told her. “Indeed during the hunting we shall always be able to ride together. Catherine has not hunted these past four years”.

  In early August, they set out. The Queen rode in her litter behind the King whilst Anne was relegated to the ranks of those ladies of similar status to herself.

  After several weeks of travelling from place to place, they were lodged in the King’s manor at Grafton in Northamptonshire when it came to Anne’s ears that Cardinal Wolsey had arrived. However by the time the news was brought to her, there was nothing she could do to prevent him making his way towards the King’s apartments. Worse, because the weather was so bad, Henry was forced to spend a great deal of time with Catherine since there was an endless procession of local dignitaries to meet the royal pair.

  Inwardly fuming, Anne made her way to the King’s outer presence chamber and mingled amongst those hoping for an interview with their sovereign. She perceived Wolsey standing alone beside a window, his eyes fixed upon the archway where Henry would shortly appear should he feel inclined to grant the interview Wolsey so fervently desired.

  Anne shrank back into the shadows as the King appeared, his eyes raking the assembly. Then he saw Wolsey. From her place in the crowd Anne heard him say “Ah, Thomas. I was brought word of your arrival. Come, we shall talk privately for I have much to discuss with you”. Henry then flung his arm around the flustered Wolsey’s shoulders, drew
him into the presence chamber and kicked the door shut behind them.

  Anne was furious. She hurried back to her chambers and gave her maid orders that should the King ask for her; he was to be told that she was ill and not to be disturbed. She felt totally betrayed, for although the King had sent the Cardinal away at her instigation, he seemed only too glad to welcome him back when he thought she was not there to see.

  She managed to avoid the King for the rest of their sojourn at Grafton, from whence they were to return to London. Only when the royal entourage was assembled, awaiting the signal to begin the journey southwards, did the King’s searching eyes finally locate his sweetheart.

  Her head held high, she stared stonily back. His face betraying his puzzlement, he nodded briefly to her before taking his place at the head of the procession.

  As soon as they arrived at the place where they would spend the first night on the journey homewards, Henry sought her out. She could do nothing but receive him, her pretensions of illness played out. Stiffly she held back as he attempted to embrace her. Puzzled, he asked “What is wrong my love? You are not still unwell?”

  “Yes” she snapped. “Extremely unwell with a sickness of the heart since with my own eyes I witnessed you receiving that buffoon Wolsey like a long lost friend!”