by G Lawrence
“She refused.” My father heaved a sigh as he fell into his chair and took ale from his daughter-in-law. “Norfolk started out by saying we came on behalf of the King to reason with her,” he said. “But before Katherine could ask us to sit, Norfolk launched into listing the many and various ways she had hurt and angered the King. He berated her, and told her how many dangers she was presenting to England by refusing to comply with the King’s wishes. He suggested she was the sole cause of dissent in England, said the King had been recognised as the Supreme Head of the Church, and therefore could not leave England for Rome, and she should consent to the trial being held in England.”
I had thought the main thrust of this delegation was to get Katherine to agree to stand aside. As my father spoke, I became aware that Henry had another objective. He wanted Katherine to abandon her suit to Rome. He feared being dragged there to appear at another humiliating trial.
Henry had hidden this from me, disguised it under a cowl of another purpose. I loathed his predilection for concealing truths from me.
“Norfolk added the Queen had no right to be upset,” said Gardiner. “As she had always been treated honourably as Queen.”
I arched an eyebrow. That was hardly true, especially not of late. “Was she angry?”
“Infuriatingly calm,” said my father. “She said no living soul regretted more than she the annoyance caused to the King, or the contempt and humiliation he had suffered, but protested His Majesty was the cause of this, not her.”
A smile crept upon my lips. It was hard not to admire Katherine. “She said that?”
“Indeed.” Gardiner smoothed his damp, black doublet. “Norfolk looked as though he might explode!”
“My uncle has never been fond of women who speak their mind,” I said. “And what then?”
“Katherine agreed that in the past she had been treated well by the King, and loved him still,” said my father. “But she pointed out that His Majesty had given her permission to appeal, at Blackfriars, and since he had been the first to approach Rome, she had only followed his good example. She told Norfolk it was the Holy Father causing unrest in England, as his delays left everyone in a state of limbo. Katherine argued that she recognised the King as lord and master of his kingdom, and he held authority over all temporal concerns, but the Church had only one sovereign, and that was the Pope. She went on to say she acknowledged the King as her sovereign and master, and was ready to serve and obey him. Norfolk spluttered that she was doing no such thing and demanded that she abandon her suit to Rome. Norfolk said this was a formal request, from the Council and the King, and impartial judges would be appointed to try the case in England.”
“I’ll wager Katherine said there were no impartial judges in England?” I said.
“Almost those exact words.” My father smiled, despite himself. “Norfolk was swiftly losing what little patience he has, and Doctor Lee came forward in his stead.”
“And what did the Doctor have to add?”
“He shouted that Katherine should admit she had known Arthur carnally, and her marriage to the King was a detestable abomination in the eyes of God. He said this had been confirmed by universities who had supported the King’s case over hers.”
Gardiner leaned forward. “But she had a reply ready, my lady,” he said. “Katherine retorted that Doctor Lee should take his allegations elsewhere, as he would never persuade her. Then she accused him of only believing this in order to gain favour, and called him a base flatterer.”
“She declared she was a virgin when she came to the King’s bed, as the King himself was well aware,” said my father. “And protested this was not the time, nor the place to hold a discussion on her maidenhead. Doctor Sampson said Katherine was to blame for the Great Matter dragging on and Katherine rounded on him and said if he had suffered even half of what she had endured, he would understand her need to have her case tried by the Holy Father himself, and no other.”
“It was then the Bishop of Lincoln stepped in,” said Gardiner. “He accused Katherine of being a concubine ever since she had lied about her virginity. He said God had brought down vengeance and shown His anger, cursing her with sterility.”
“I thought Katherine would break down,” admitted my father. “It was as though the Bishop had slapped her.”
“She would never take kindly to the notion that she slew her other babes by her sins,” I said. “Nor that her daughter is the spawn of an abominable union.”
“Katherine stared at him,” said Gardiner. “She drew herself up and said she esteemed and loved the King, but would never have remained in his company, or his bed, if it went against her conscience. She declared she was his legitimate, true wife, and any proofs brought against that claim were forgeries and falsehoods. She had confessed to Cardinal Campeggio that she was a virgin when she was married, she said, instructing him to break the sacred silence of confession if he needed to. She would not discard her resolution to have her case tried in Rome, and declared she expected no special treatment from Clement, as she was well aware His Holiness loved the King more than her. She protested she had followed the path of truth and justice, and it was those who had misled the King who should think on their sins, not her.”
“She looked at me when she said that,” my father muttered over his goblet.
“Doctor Sampson said even if she won in Rome, the case would be overturned by appeal. Katherine retorted that Sampson should accompany Lee to Rome, and discuss the matter to their hearts’ content with people who actually knew what they were talking about.”
I whistled. Katherine was an Amazon.
Gardiner sat back. “She stared at all of us, one by one, and said she was astonished so many men of power and influence should have come, and wondered why such a large delegation had been sent to surprise her so late at night, when she had no legal counsel or friends to support her.”
“Norfolk pointed out she was hardly friendless,” said my father. “Having Warham, Fisher, and the Bishop of Durham and others on her side.”
“Katherine said Warham was no use to her,” said Gardiner, “for all Warham had to say was ira principis mors est. She also said Durham was the King’s vassal, and Fisher, although he had a good heart, could only tell her to hope for the best. She said she had been obliged to look elsewhere for lawyers and friends, and was alone in England. Therefore, she declared, she had every reason to look to Rome for justice.”
“She was trying to make you pity her,” I said. “Katherine is good at that.”
“I stepped in and said her right to appeal to Rome did not go so far as to allow the King to be summoned to Rome like an errant schoolboy,” said my father. “But she said she could do nothing if this was what Rome required.”
“It sounds as if Katherine was prepared for your visit,” I said. “Chapuys or Fisher must have warned her.”
“She did not seem at all ruffled to see us there,” my father agreed.
“What more was said?” I asked.
“Nothing more, my lady,” said Gardiner. “Some who were invited to talk, such as Stokesley, the Bishop of London, had not the courage. We left and reported to the King.”
“You did not get anywhere,” I noted. “But this does not have to end badly.”
“What good comes of it?” asked my father. “The King was almost out of his mind with rage, and we are no closer to getting Katherine to submit.”
“Out of his mind with rage at Katherine,” I said. “I can use that.”
“To do what?”
“To remove her, for good.”
Chapter Fifteen
Greenwich Palace
Early Summer 1531
“She said she would obey me in all matters,” Henry bellowed as he thundered about the chamber. “But she owed prior obligations to two persons.”
“Whom?” I asked calmly.
“I thought she meant the Pope and the Emperor,” he raged. “But Norfolk said she was speaking of God and her conscience!” H
e turned on me. I do not believe I had ever seen Henry so enraged. He looked like the Devil. “I have called her back to court,” he said. “I will make her see what my men could not!”
I already knew of this. Katherine had admitted she was delighted that Henry wanted her to return early from her summer excursion, but said she would have to delay, as she had to meet with her stewards about her estates, and would be back within two weeks.
“And will you sit here, like an obedient puppy and wait,” I asked, “for her? Will you, the King, placate a woman who has brought you nothing but misery?”
His head shot up and he glowered, but his rage was not directed at me. “You are right, Anne,” he said. “You are right. God’s blood! Why should I wait for this woman?”
“Why indeed, my lord,” I said. My face might have appeared displeased, but inside, I was beaming. Henry was angry enough for anything. “Shall we take a trip, my love, hunting?” I asked. “It has been too long since you were out in the open air, and I know your men are sad, cooped up in the palace. It is almost summer. Let us go to the country.”
He opened his arms and I came to him. “You are right,” he said. “Why should I sit here like a fool and wait for Katherine to return?”
I stared up into his eyes. “For too long has Katherine dictated the terms of the Great Matter. She forgets who is sovereign in England. She thinks she is the King, and you her Queen! It is time to end this. You have been patient, treated her with love and respect, and she has thrown your kindness back in your face. It makes me sad to see you like this, my love. When we are in the wilds of England you will be freed of cares.”
“You are right, Anne,” he said again, and I knew he was not speaking of hunting, but of all I had said.
*
As I walked back to my chambers, I happened to overhear a conversation. Henry Guildford, Comptroller of the King’s household, had been part of the delegation sent to Katherine, and he was telling his companions of it. The hallway was large, with seats provided for courtiers to rest and talk on wild, wet days. Guildford was surrounded by chortling men. He was telling them how Katherine had faced down the delegation, and trounced them.
“By the faith!” Guildford said as I turned the corridor with my ladies. “All lawyers and theologians arguing for the King should be put in a cart and shipped to Rome! There they will be exposed for the charlatans they are! The Queen was so noble and dignified, my lords. I admire her courage.”
Everyone in that corridor heard him. As I ground to a halt, Guildford became aware of my presence. “It would be wise not to inform His Majesty of your sentiments towards his unruly, ungracious Queen,” I said. “I thought you supported the King and England, Guildford. Did you not sign your name to the petition asking that the King be allowed to separate from his wife?”
“I did, my lady,” he said, sneering. “But I have come to think I was misguided.”
“When I am Queen, Guildford, there will be no room at court for idle men who change their mind as the wind alters direction. When I am Queen, I shall have you removed.”
“Allow me to save you the trouble, my lady,” said Guildford, striding away. I heard later he had gone straight to Henry, and asked to resign his position. According to George, Henry tried to calm Guildford, saying my words were “but women’s talk” which hardly made me any happier. I hated to be dismissed on account of my sex.
“Did Guildford also tell Henry what he said?” I demanded of my brother.
“Of course not.” George ran a hand through his hair. “He just told the King you threatened to banish him. He made you sound completely unreasonable.”
Guildford eventually took back his white stave of office, but he left for his estates in Kent. If Henry cared, I did not. Anyone not for us was against us.
We left for a summer of hunting soon after. As soon as we felt the fresh air of the countryside on our faces, Henry altered. The cares of court drifted from him, and as we rode through his parks, hunting, riding and feasting outdoors, he came alive. I rode pillion on Henry’s horse, and as we made our way through forest tracks, he could not keep his hands from me. When we neared villages, Henry’s people came out to welcome their King. But me, they did not welcome. Those who dared hissed curses at me. They were careful not to raise their voices too high, but I heard every word, and every one of them stung. One day, I swore, they would see my true character.
That June Henry turned forty. Although it was not usual to celebrate birthdays, Bryan told me Henry wanted no one to mention it. “He thinks he is getting old,” said Bryan, with a wicked little grin.
“A man is only as old as his spirit,” I said. “The King’s soul is eternal in its energy.”
In all honesty, had you seen Henry during that time, you would have believed me without question. He was a creature made for the outdoors. The sun on his face brought him happiness, and a horse under him granted him youth. Too long had he been cooped up with only cares and worries to feed him. My love needed wild places to sustain his soul. He felt it too, and one night, as we sat playing chess, he took my hands.
“Thank you, for this.”
“This is your lodge, my lord, and your animals we hunt,” I smiled. “All I have provided on this trip is my company.”
“You suggested it,” Henry said. “And I did not know how much I needed it.” He stroked a finger up my hand. “You always know, my Anne, what I need. You knew it before I found you, didn’t you? Sometimes I think you heard the calls of my restless heart in the darkness, and that was why you came home to England. You heard how lonely I was, and how empty my life had become.”
“Perhaps I did.” I set my hands over his. “We need to remember, my love, that there must be a space left where we can be together without the unruly world intruding. At court, we are forced to turn on each other because of the strain upon us and the spleen of those who would drive us apart. But when we are brought together, like this, there is only harmony.”
“I agree,” he said. “And I could think of nothing I would like more than to have some time just for us, Anne.”
The next day we made for Sandwich, one of the Cinque Ports, as Henry wanted to inspect its defences. England’s Cinque Ports were a series of coastal towns in Kent and Sussex, established for military and trade purposes. Hastings, New Romney, Hythe and Dover were the others. Henry had done more for England’s navy than any other king, and he was prodigiously proud of his fleet. He encouraged shipbuilding and the creation of dockyards. Indeed, so many of England’s forests had been cut down to provide timber that there were few wild spaces left, and those that remained were guarded for Henry’s pleasure. Henry’s ships were more sophisticated than those of his forebears. They carried heavier cannon, some bearing twenty heavy and sixty light, and could fire a broadside, meaning all cannons would fire from one side of the ship at once, wreaking untold devastation. Gunports with flaps that could open or close, becoming watertight, had been added to Henry’s ships ever since the Mary Rose was built. These allowed cannon to be carried lower, making the ships stable. Henry’s ships also carried guns and archers, so warships could draw close to enemy vessels, fire shot into their bellies, and arrows into their men.
Henry was the first king to truly realise that, as an island, England should be a nation of sailors. He had transformed his country into a mighty sea power, understanding dominance on the oceans was vital to any military campaign. Although there had been little need for Henry’s navy for a decade, he had not stopped building. His navy were always on standby for action in war, but they also patrolled England’s waters, protecting ports, merchants, and fishing boats against pirates. England’s fishing industry was vital to her economy. Regular abstinence from meat on Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays, as well as feast days and the whole of Lent and Advent meant England’s people depended on the sea for sustenance. One hundred and eighty-six days of the year England’s people feasted on fish. The herring was the most sought-after. Their shoals swarmed through the North S
ea, attracting almost four hundred thousand ships in a good season from Europe and England. Somewhere around six hundred English ships alone hunted herring in the Irish Sea. Sea skirmishes often took place between Spain, England and France for these humble fish, and Henry’s navy provided protection, at a price, for England’s fishermen.
London was England’s most important fish market, so vital in fact, that at events such as the Lord Mayor’s annual feast, the Fishmonger’s Company processed ahead of goldsmiths, merchant tailors, skinners and fifty other guilds.
“Look on them, Anne!” Henry leaned on the town wall, his eyes afire as he watched his pride and joy. He had ordered the Mary Rose and the Henry Grace a Dieu brought to Sandwich so he could inspect them.
“The port-master tells me your men call the Grace a Dieu the Great Harry, now, my lord,” I said and Henry chuckled, not at all displeased by the familiarity of this pet name. Henry had a talent for communicating with his people, able to set them at ease by speaking with them like a friend. And that was how they viewed him.