Nineteen
“She said what?! That horrid girl! That cursed bastard! Oh Harry, what shall we do with her?” said the queen after Madge had made her report.
“By heaven, she will do as I command! She will do it or she will pay the price as others have done! I will not have her and her mother raise an army against me! They must accept you, dearest, and they must accept our boy! Zounds! I will break her!” shouted the king. Madge watched as the king hit his fist against the serving table, shaking everything that had been set upon it. Then, she observed how the king, as if suddenly reminded of his wife’s tender condition, gained control over his wrath and became gentle. He turned when he heard sobs from the queen.
“Tut, tut, what is this? Sweetheart, do not shed such tears. We will bring Mary round, takes but time. Now, now, dearest. Do not take on so. Remember our boy—for his sake, desist from your cries,” said the king with more tenderness in his voice than Madge had heard recently.
“I know, I know. She must obey her king. But I am cut to the bone by her coldness, her hatred of me. And I have not yet seen Elizabeth. Why haven’t they brought her to me? Do they not know how my arms long to hold her? And those wretched women who lined the road in that last little village—shouting those awful words about me! It is too much, Harry—just too much!” sobbed the queen.
Madge wanted to go to Her Majesty and rub her shoulders, but she dared not. Instead, she turned her face away from such an intimate scene.
“There, there, my love. You are overwrought. The journey has been long and you are tired. There were only a handful of women along the road and I shall find them out and send someone to speak with them. They don’t know you, dearest. If they did, you would win them easily. No one really knows you as I do and you will always have my heart,” said the king.
“Will I, Harry? Will I?” said the queen.
“Yes, my love—always,” said the king as he leaned over to her and kissed her for a long time.
“Oh Harry, can you not come to my bed tonight? I have need of your strong arms around me,” whispered the queen.
“Oh madame, how you tempt me! But no, I would not meddle with you now. I might disturb our little prince and neither of us would want that. No, my sweet—the boot must needs be on the other foot awhile—I must now keep you at arm’s length—until our son is born. But then, woman! You can look forward to my love, which I shall keep as a precious jewel for you alone,” said the king, rising to his feet.
“Lady Margaret, go find that confounded Lady Bryan and tell her to bring the princess to us! Immediately!” shouted His Majesty.
“Yes, Your Grace,” said Madge.
“Now, madame, what say you to some music to calm your nerves? I’ll have them bring in Master Smeaton and I shall sing to you myself! Does this please my dearest?” said the king.
“Yes, my love!” Anything that pleases you doth make me the ‘moost happi,’” said the queen.
Madge hurried out of the chamber to find Lady Bryan. The first person she found, however, was Wyatt.
“How now, mistress? Why such hurry?” said Wyatt, bowing.
“I am sent to find Lady Bryan so she might fetch the princess for the queen,” said Madge, continuing her brisk walk.
“Whoa! Whoa! Mistress! You will never find her that way. The princess is housed down this hall—I shall show you,” said Wyatt.
“Always my friend, Thomas! I am glad you are with us on this Progress—it shall be more pleasant!” said Madge, her skirts rustling as she rushed to follow Wyatt.
“The queen bade me come—I would have been as happy in London, roasting by the fire in the king’s privy chamber. Tell me, Madge—have you been writing any poetry of late?” said Wyatt.
“Not more than a few accursed lines—I am kept too busy by the queen. When she is with child, she has great need of me. She seems to prefer my company to that of her other ladies,” said Madge.
“I understand her preference. Your loyalty is true and there are few here the good queen can trust. She has many enemies. It is easier to fault her than to cast a shadow on the king,” said Wyatt.
“And safer, too,” said Madge with a smile.
“Madame, here is the princess Elizabeth’s chamber. I will see you anon,” said Wyatt.
“Oh Thomas, won’t you come to the king’s bedchamber? Master Smeaton will be singing as will the king himself. I will inquire of the queen if you may join us,” said Madge.
“Milady, I would be most honored,” said Wyatt. “I shall wait outside until you motion me to enter.”
Together, they took turns carrying the princess Elizabeth to the queen. Madge noted the bright reddish-gold hair and thought that, though the king could claim her by her locks, her face mirrored that of the queen’s.
* * *
By the time Madge brought Elizabeth to the king and queen, a small group had gathered in the privy chamber—Master Smeaton, Sir Brereton, Lady Jane Seymour, Sir Francis Weston, Countess Rochford, Lady Margaret Douglas, Sir Norris, and other favorites of the king. Madge immediately asked if Sir Thomas might join them.
“Do bring in our favorite poet, Lady Margaret. He shall entertain us with his verses and Master Smeaton shall accompany him on the virginals,” said His Majesty, his blue eyes filled with happiness.
“Yes, invite him in—I would so like to hear something about true love,” said the queen, gazing into the king’s eyes for a long moment, then turning to the babe that lay between them.
Elizabeth had awakened in a good humor and was smiling and giggling with her parents as they lay upon a large bed. The queen looked serene and happy, nuzzling her daughter, giving her many kisses and caresses. The king, too, took pleasure in the babe, holding her up for all to see. Madge took her place among the courtiers and was surprised to see a solitary man standing back from the others, almost hidden in the corner.
“My lady Shelton. You look quite lovely after such a hard ride,” said Arthur quietly.
“Do not speak pretty words to me, sir. Not after your little trick this day,” said Madge.
“Pretty words for a pretty lady—what is wrong with that? Is that not the way of the court?” said Arthur.
“I do not give a fig for such things as well you know. Why did you leave me in the hands of Norris? Do you now hate me?” said Madge in a sudden fury.
“Mistress, I could never hate you. You told me in the wood that you needed to find a superior person to marry. You are betrothed to Sir Henry Norris. I felt you should ride a ways with your lover, so all the court could see. And, after all, I’m merely Brandon’s bastard. I am too low for such as you, milady,” said Arthur in a whisper.
“I stung you with my words. What would you have me do? The queen has told me I cannot marry you—she has told me she will find me an appropriate match. Would you have me go against her wishes? Even if I loved you, I could not do such a thing,” said Madge.
“Then you do not love me. I shall withdraw from your presence, mistress, in that case. Though to be away from you will break me,” said Arthur.
“Do not withdraw, I beg of you. Just understand that I cannot accept you as husband,” said Madge.
“If you will not marry me, then will you give yourself to me, body and soul?” said Arthur.
Madge laughed at his forwardness. If such words had come from Norris, she would have slapped his face for them. But somehow, coming from Arthur, she welcomed them.
“Kind sir, though your offer of service is quite tempting, I must remain chaste until my marriage. I have told you this. Try to remember it,” said Madge as she touched his arm.
Just then, Norris approached them.
“Master Brandon, what are you doing in the king’s chambers? You are not a groom,” said Norris while he pulled Madge by the elbow away from Arthur.
“I am here at the queen’s command, Sir Norris,” said Arthur, giving him a short bow from the waist, but not lowering his head. Instead, he kept his eyes on Norris.
“
Ah. Do you mind if I take Lady Margaret from you for a moment? The king is going to make a speech and I would she stand by my side for it,” said Norris.
“The Lady Margaret is yours, sir,” said Arthur.
Madge and Norris moved closer to the king’s bed where His Majesty stood, holding Elizabeth. He clinked his knife against his wineglass and all grew quiet.
“As you can see, the princess Elizabeth is healthy and beautiful—perfect in every way. I wish to announce that I have ordered a new cradle made for the bonny prince who is on his way to us. Cornelius Hayes, our renowned goldsmith, is to craft the cradle and it shall be of purest silver, inlaid with many precious stones and shall have the Tudor rose carved therein. A splendid cradle for a splendid prince!” roared the king. At that, he carried Elizabeth back to her mother and kissed the queen with great passion. Madge could not hear what the queen said to him, but her face was all smiles.
* * *
By the end of March, the Progress finally returned to Hampton Court where the queen and the Princess spent much time together. When he was not busy working on state business with Master Cromwell, the king joined them.
Cromwell had fashioned another, more strident Act of Succession for all the king’s subjects to sign. Actually, several acts were passed around the same time. These documents recognized Elizabeth as the only legitimate heir, should anything happen to His Majesty. They also made a law that any words spoken or written against the king’s new marriage would be considered treason. The confiscation of church property for the king’s coffers continued, under Cromwell, to go beyond reform of the monasteries to simple pillage. Those who refused to sign the papers were arrested and executed with marvelous speed.
Madge heard grizzly stories circulating around the court upon her return, and she noted how the atmosphere had changed. Before Cromwell’s new legislation, the court had been a place of pleasure; the king had enjoyed all the good things offered in the earthly realm. But now, fear and gossip filled the air. No one spoke their thoughts, for to do so might prove deadly. Before the latest laws, those who kept the old faith, such as Cate, did so in relative ease, judging they would be tolerated by His Most Gracious Majesty. But now, with Cromwell hunting them down with his network of spies and henchmen, the papists were forced to worship in utmost secrecy, fearing for their lives. Support for the dowager princess Catherine, which had once been widespread among certain courtiers, dissipated into the air. Lord Suffolk and Sir Nicholas Carew retired to their manor houses far from London, as their loyalty to Catherine remained unchanged, though they had signed all the papers they were asked to sign. Danger lingered in the air. The plague, a rainy season that sent much of the land into famine, hangings and burnings of holy men who refused to acknowledge Henry as head of the church, hangings and burnings of anyone who might be labeled “heretic”—these evils bedeviled the country. At the center, cursed for all that was raging around the country, was one name and one name only—Queen Anne, Henry’s “goggle-eyed whore.”
* * *
Madge began to have fears for the queen and for their family. Norfolk, the queen’s uncle, was becoming more and more aloof with Her Majesty, and Madge had heard the queen say harsh words to him. He was part of the old world—the old faith, the old order.
Lord Wiltshire, the queen’s father, as well as her brother George, were in France, trying to convince Francis I that one of his sons should become betrothed to the princess Elizabeth. Such a match was pleasing to the queen as she considered the French king her friend.
The new Spanish ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, refused to recognize the queen or any of her ladies and caused trouble at every opportunity. There was nothing he would not do or say to help the dowager princess.
Yet, through all the turmoil, the king kept his queen daily by his side, though he insisted she rest frequently and he took care not to let his difficulties reach her ears. For her, he was all smiles and pleasantries.
As for the queen, she had recalled Madge as mistress of the bedchamber and kept her close. During the long afternoons, they played cards, usually All Fours or Primero. Sometimes, they rolled the dice in such sport as Hazard or Quenes. Frequently, Her Majesty called for Master Smeaton to play for her while she rested. Often, she and Madge fell asleep on the queen’s bed, the cards and die scattered between them, Master Smeaton playing the virginals softly in the background. On just such an afternoon, the queen received more bad news.
“Madame, the lady Mary, your sister, would speak with you,” said Mistress Marshall herself. Madge was immediately on edge as Mistress Marshall rarely came into the queen’s bedchamber and only when there was trouble among the queen’s ladies.
“Admit our dear sister to us at once, Mistress Marshall,” said the queen, rising from her bed and sitting in one of the nearby chairs. Madge stood behind the queen, ready to be of service. She watched as Lady Mary Carey entered and curtsied deeply to the queen. She was not certain, but it seemed the lady Mary had a small belly.
The queen did not seem to notice but rose to greet her sister with a hug.
“Dearest sister, what brings you to my bedchamber on such a cloudy afternoon?” said the queen, motioning for Mary to sit down in the chair opposite her.
“I came to receive your good and generous blessing,” said Mary in a small voice.
“Then I bless you with all my heart, dear sister. How can I help you? Our father is sending adequate money and food for you and the children, I hope. The king himself instructed him to do so,” said the queen, smiling.
“Yes, Majesty. Father is faithful to send exactly the amount the king requires—no more, no less. Little Henry and Mary are growing nicely and have enough of everything,” said Mary.
“Good, good. How then, may I be of assistance to you?” said the queen.
At this, Lady Mary fell from the chair to her knees and held the queen’s hands in her own. Tears fell onto the queen’s lap.
“What is this, Mary? Why these tears? Nothing can be this bad, sister. Come, tell us your troubles,” said the queen, lifting Mary’s chin so she could look into her large blue eyes.
“Oh Anne, I have done something you will not like. I fear the king will be filled with anger when he hears it,” said Mary.
“Tell us, sister. What have you done?” said the queen, her brow beginning to wrinkle.
“I have married William Stafford, a Yeoman of the Guard,” said Mary and then burst into sobs.
Madge watched as Anne’s entire body stiffened. For a moment, the queen said nothing. Then she pushed Mary from her and stood.
“I cannot believe you to be such a stupid cow! For you to marry, without the king’s permission, to a … a … commoner when you are sister to the queen! What have you done, Mary! What have you done! Get out! Out of my sight!” screeched the queen. Before Mary could rise, the queen grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the chamber door. She threw her out with a mighty shove.
“Am I to be ruined by my foolish sister? Oh, Margaret, what will the king say—he will be sorry he wed me, a mere English woman, when he could have married a princess from France. Oh, he will find me low and common now. What has she done!” The queen cried as she flung herself across her bed. Madge hurried to her side.
“Majesty, no one could take the dignity of your royal person from you. You are a consecrated queen and what your silly sister does is of no consequence. His Majesty may be angry, but this will not touch his love for you. Be of good cheer! You carry his son and when the prince is born, the king will forgive all, even such as Mary,” said Margaret as she stroked the queen’s back.
“Think you so, Margaret? Think you the king’s love can withstand so much?” said the queen.
“Madame, I can see how he looks at you—his eyes wet with love. He is yours and always shall be. There, there. Do not dismay. Let us refresh ourselves with some wine and cherry tarts. They are delicious, I am told,” said Madge.
The queen began to laugh.
“Oh Lady Ma
rgaret, if only all problems could be solved with wine and cherry tarts! You amuse me, child. I am glad you are with me in these frightful days,” said the queen.
Madge did a little dance for the queen’s pleasure as she prepared their repast.
Twenty
Madge hurried to Cate’s quarters to see if she and Shadow wanted to go for a long walk into Cheapside where Mary and William Stafford were living. She was on a mission from the queen herself. The day was sunny and the air was warmer now that the end of March was near. She knocked on the door and heard great shuffling from inside the chamber. Cate opened the door, struggling to hold onto Shadow’s collar.
“Maddie, come in, come in. It has been long since I have seen you, my girl. What of the queen?” said Cate.
“Her Majesty is well and getting fatter by the day. We think the bonny prince to come in early August. I have an errand to run and I hoped you and Shadow might accompany me,” said Madge.
“What sort of errand?” said Cate.
“I am to go to Cheapside to Braxton’s Inn to find the queen’s sister, the lady Mary and her new husband, William Stafford. I have news for them,” said Madge.
“I have heard the king rusticated them without a penny, with nothing but His Majesty’s mighty wrath,” said Cate as she wrapped her cloak around her and tethered Shadow.
“Master Cromwell took up their plight and went to the king on their behalf. He told the king that Lady Mary had said to him that her “heart overruled her head” in this matter. When he said that, His Majesty began to laugh, saying, ‘Of her, we would expect nothing else—she always was a silly wench.’ And then the queen asked if she could give them a manor house in Norfolk with a goodly income. The king cannot refuse her these days. With only one condition—they are never to come to court again and Mary’s son, Henry Carey, must stay here under the queen’s guardianship. He had previously been declared her ward, but the queen had allowed him to stay with his mother. Now, he is commanded to live at court,” said Madge.
At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn Page 14