Had the Queen Lived:

by Raven A. Nuckols

  Pete was interrogated and most likely tortured, with rumors spreading that he had been racked and burnt with hot pokers, but that he would not deny his faith. The monk was quickly tried for heresy and sentenced to be burned alive on June 13th, 1541; in front of the church he so loved, to be made an example of. Interestingly, few attempts were made to make him recant; it is believed that the King felt this case could further reinforce his authority by serving as a reminder of the penalty for denying the King’s supremacy. At the burning, Pete maintained his faith until the end, urging those witnessing to be obedient to God, above all others. After the burning, Lord Audley ordered pamphlets be released and spread throughout the realm to showcase the result of having lived such a vile, seditious life. Archbishop Cranmer attended the burning begging him to recant, to which Pete did not answer.

  Catholics and Protestants alike were outraged; especially Anne, the reformation was never meant to silence the opposition by death, rather, the people had been told there would be peaceful re-indoctrination, unless rebels took up arms against the King. With the death of this monk, along with those of previous martyrs, it appeared that the crown was waging a campaign of fear to silence critics at any cost. Many devoted Catholics, especially in the north, kept their true faith hidden, and kept a watchful eye on their neighbors, lest they themselves become the next “example.”

  The burning of a heretic in this part of the kingdom was significant for a number of reasons. First, a majority of subjects had previously sworn to the oath and, under strict guidance from the mayor and magistrate, had converted voluntarily all their monasteries into reformed houses. Only a select few were found to be disobedient and these few holdouts were imprisoned. The economy of the region was stable, but not growing. Agriculture was the main source of revenue for the town, although there were also skilled laborers in the blacksmithing trade. The area was also a critical producer of wool. The Mayor ruled the town with an iron fist and everyone learned to publicly refrain from acting out. When the Reformation came, the people went along quietly enough, but there were still those who privately clung to their faith. The death of a poor and simple monk angered far more than it frightened.

  Hearing news of Pete’s treatment further convinced Frances that the Catholic cause was just and she privately began seeking out those of like minds. Her father would come to know nothing of his daughter’s newfound beliefs. She wept over the torture of Pete and became interested in self flagellation as a means of sharing both in the poor monk’s torment and that of the Lord Jesus. Hearing of a man being tortured to recant his most deeply held principles frightened and angered her, and made her loathe her time with Henry. A letter to Don Miguel, intercepted by Chapuys’ agents and in the Spanish archives, reveals her hidden angst.

  Frances had managed to obtain miniature wooden relics for use in praying according to Catholic rites, and concealed them in the bottom of her clothing trunk. Rosary beads, presumably obtained from Lady Norris, became her most prized possession. These items were considered relics and as such were banned in the kingdom; even to possess them risked being tried for heresy. These secret observances were an even greater risk to her because of her still developing relationship with her king.

  In June had come a turning point in the King’s affections. Late in the month, he paid an unannounced evening visit to Frances; while the details of that meeting are unknown, it can be accurately presumed from what is said in a letter from Frances to Lady Norris that there was a romantic encounter. However, the extent of this encounter was not known. This new relationship had energized Henry. He felt as he hadn’t since he had started courting Anne a decade before; in fact, she behaved much as Anne had, playing with his feelings, showing some interest in him on one occasion, only to turn it off again on another. Except with Frances, her feelings of contempt for him was genuine and not just sheer manipulation, as Anne had previously done. This back and forth uncertainty only proved to drive Henry’s lust further.

  With distance from the forced separation from her Don Miguel, Frances came to be flattered and even partly enjoy the attentions her King showered upon her, but she was overwhelmingly annoyed at the pretense of having to appear genuine. Her refusals to bed the King completely were not done with the cynical intent employed by Queen Anne so many years ago, Frances genuinely loved another, and sought to save her virtue. Nevertheless, these differences in intent were of little consequence. Henry loved a challenge and in this young girl he once more had found one.

  The following week, the Earl was granted land in Nottingham worth 1,000 pounds annually, and Frances was showered almost daily with new jewels, dresses and accoutrements from the King. There was a noticeable change in his previous routine, he was rising earlier and hunting more, perhaps in a vain effort to keep himself young for his new mistress, or at the very least to appear to be doing so. He appeared to be attempting to get into shape for his new lady to make himself more physically appealing to her.

  To anyone at court not completely blind, Frances was clearly now the King’s mistress. Anne was livid and tasked George to investigate the lady. Lord Rochford had been keeping a close eye, but the health of the Queen’s father had started to turn over the spring and was starting to become a serious issue. Having Frances still in her service allowed Anne to keep a watchful eye on her lady-in-waiting and keep her as much as possible within the Queen’s own chambers. George’s searching had turned up nothing of note, only a note of an outstanding debt to a tailor. Not satisfied, Anne persisted in the investigation.

  Meanwhile, Chapuys was keeping a watchful eye over his secretary, who had been told to continue his duties in England. The Imperial Ambassador was aware of the romance between Frances and Don Miguel but he had not discussed it with his secretary (he had long since learned that it was occasionally wise not to know details) and while he suspected the lady to be a Catholic, he had no direct proof. Realizing how valuable the King’s pawn could be if she were on the Spanish side in the religious dispute, he had his own agents at court looking for any trace of her sympathies. Don Miguel was intentionally kept out of these affairs, better to preserve his ability to genuinely appear sincere, were he to become a pawn in the great game.

  Anne also grew increasingly cruel with Frances physically, often times slapping her for minor infractions of her strict rules of conduct. On one occasion in July, the Queen went so far as to question Frances harshly about her interactions with Henry in front of the other ladies, to the young woman’s great humiliation. At a summer feast accompanying a jousting tournament, Anne partook of too much wine and even publicly shouted from across the feast hall that the young Frances was the palace’s “great whore”—forgetting that the insult had been associated with herself for over a decade.

  This increasingly public conflict did not temper Henry in his pursuit of the lady. A woman had not refused him since Anne. When he became aware of his wife’s harsh treatment towards his mistress, he admonished Anne not to do so again. His command would fall on deaf ears. When Anne was not tormenting Frances, her other ladies would fill the role, especially the Queen’s favorite, the Lady Audrey de Vere. Audrey would put strange herbs in Frances’ food at meals and would spike her drink to make her sick. She also Acted as the Queen’s spy and would follow Frances’ movements as often as she could.

  Panic rang out in the Queen’s chambers and her mood swings grew more dramatic, pronounced, and threatening. Her behavior was erratic for long periods, flipping between stretches of sullen quietude and sheer mania. She could not bear to see her husband fall for another. Unlike her more calculating behavior towards her previous rival, Jane Seymour, she could not hold herself together this time. She was older and, although she had a son, she knew she could no longer capture the King’s attentions the way she once had. This young girl was more of a threat to her because she appealed to Henry’s true lustful nature; one that Anne well knew could be powerful.

  Frances attem
pted to smuggle letters to Don Miguel, but nearly all of them were intercepted by an unknown agent, presumably working for Chapuys, and destroyed. Both grew frustrated that the other had not been true to their love, not realizing they had been duped. By August, Chapuys had his secretary banned altogether from attending celebrations at court, on the pretense that the Ambassador alone should represent the Spanish throne at such gatherings. This dramatically reduced the encounters Frances and Don Miguel would have.

  William Buxton, the King’s groom, reported Henry’s whereabouts to Lord Audley; how often he would visit with Frances, what types of gifts he bought her, and what if any influence she attempted to exercise with Henry concerning his marriage. Naturally these were reported back to the Queen who wanted continuous surveillance on the King and his affair. There were no such statements to report as Frances was ignorant of such political manipulations and sought only to remain in her monarch’s good graces and maintain the level of gifts Henry was showering upon her. Other concerns were irrelevant to her; she was neither mature nor cynical enough to understand fully that these gifts could be perceived by others as signs that the King was preparing to divorce Anne replace her as Queen.

  What did not go unnoticed by the Queen was that, based on the reports of her spies, Henry’s gifts rivaled the total sum cost of those he had spent wooing Anne those many years before. He bought Frances prized horses, pearls from the East, nearly 200 yards of damask and silk for gowns. Of all the gifts he bought her, Frances was careful to send most back to her family estate, to keep them from the grasp of the Queen who might destroy them. For as much as she disliked the role she was now in, she did appreciate the finery she was being bathed in, and wished to keep the tokens safe. Even Frances so otherwise free of guile, realized that they would be of great financial importance to her were she to someday leave court. She maintained appearances as the King’s mistress and met with her father regularly to report on her progress. Her father, in turn, reported his daughter’s successes to his allies in the Conservative faction, who were pleased with how well she was managing and encouraged the exploits. None more so than Gardiner.

  Over the summer months Henry continued his pursuit of Frances. The two were often reported dining together in his chambers, playing at cards and discussing courtly games. Buxton, the King’s groom, continued to keep Audley informed of Frances’ movements and how the affair was progressing. Henry occupied the majority of her free time and her visits to Lady Norris significantly slowed during this period. Nonetheless, with Anne’s eye ever more watchful, the visits became shorter and virtually no talk of religion or Don Miguel was possible. The King showed the beautiful Frances off to foreign dignitaries and, according to correspondence from the French Ambassador to his king, she was formally introduced as Henry’s official mistress to the court on August 3rd, 1541.

  Anne was furious. The French Ambassador wrote mixed reports of his majesty’s intentions with this mistress. On an official visit to England, King Francis I greeted Henry’s lady with the standard approach given an official mistress, but he remained cold and distant. Francis and Anne shared a genuine warm embrace for the King of France was very fond of the Queen. He remembered her and her sister Mary well many years ago when they were serving at the French court. Later that evening Francis refused an invitation to dance with Frances, claiming malaise, and retired to his chambers. Francis personally wrote the Queen of his continued support for her marriage to the King and his deep and unending affection for Anne and appreciation for the support she had always shown for France. He went on to say how sad he was to hear that Henry had chosen to take a mistress but reassured her that Frances possessed none of the superior qualities that Anne had. He concluded with his confidence that the affair would be short lived.

  It was clear to everyone at court, except Anne, Frances herself, and the hopeful anti-reform conspirators, that Frances was nothing more than what we would today call a “midlife crisis.” Anne made the mistake of treating her as a genuine rival, and her cruelty towards the girl had driven Henry increasingly to the suffering girl. Anne banished Frances from her presence and refused to allow her in her royal presence. Henry and Anne had massive fights over Frances. In one of their more intense fights, Anne threw things at him and he shook her and threw her on her bed. These fights only separated the couple further. The court gossiped about Anne’s fate and the Catholics continued to plot the Queen’s eventual overthrow. Few courtiers were upset about the new mistress. Previous Boleyn supporters were now found talking with the ranks of Bishop Gardiner and his associates.

  In private, the royal couple’s fights included public reprimands with Anne using such abusive language towards his grace that some thought her words alone were enough for the scaffold. She scolded him as one would a child, and reminded him of the son she had borne him. Anne’s inability to accept his affairs was becoming dangerous to herself and those who supported her. She had done her best to put up with the occasional dalliances during her pregnancies, but after having suffered her near fatal miscarriage, she would not stand for his infidelities any longer.

  Buxton continued to report on Henry’s movements, but George thought it wiser not to strike just yet. One point used continually to argue that Frances was unfit to be a royal mistress was her age. During her tenure as his mistress, she had comported herself quite well, all things considering. Buxton went on to continue reporting to Audley that there was no sign that Frances was using her influence to threaten the Queen. She was either not wielding such influence, or was perhaps even ignorant of the possibility. It is interesting to note that had the Boleyns’ agents not been so fixated on the matter of the affair and signs of Anne’s position being threatened, they might have noticed signs pointing to Frances’ Catholic faith and the affair with the Don Miguel.

  The only information Chapuys could find of potential conflict between the King and his mistress was an account that Frances once spoke disapprovingly of a monastery in Lambeth. Henry immediately shut her down and warned her not to speak of such matters; it was his will that the monastery be freed from corruption and abuses and that she should not concern herself with this or any other affairs of state.

  Increasingly realizing that their success in creating a rival to Anne was not resulting in an Actual threat to the Queen’s position, the conservatives gathered to plan their next strategy. For the better part of a year, Frances had been keeping the King’s company and while many found it hard to believe that she had not yet shared his bed, she constantly professed at having maintaining her virginity. It was uncertain that Henry would tolerate the sort of behavior from the young Frances that he had tolerated—even welcomed—from Anne; apparently all that Henry wanted from Frances was the promise of recapturing his youth, not a politically charged mistress; he already had that sort of council from his wife. Henry instead saw Frances as a beautiful plaything, and thought it surely only a matter of time before he would bed the enticing beauty.

  In private, Henry would still visit the Queen, with one particular incident, on the night of September 12th, 1541, recorded by Anne’s sister-in-law, Lady Rochford. The account can be taken as accurate, as Lady Rochford had great animosity for her husband and his family and it is believed that she was working with the conservative faction to bring the family down. She was a staunch Catholic and believed God surely would smite those who had betrayed the natural faith. She saw herself as the perfect tool to help assist in the reformists’ ultimate demise.

  More than that, it was rumored that Lady Rochford had grown to despise her husband and the Boleyn family because of George’s own philandering eye, which apparently wandered equally to both sexes. According to rumors, Lady Jane Rochford had caught her husband in the throes of passion with one of his grooms, a young man named David Matterson. She watched the encounter, unnoticed, for nearly an hour as they consummated their Act until Lady Rochford lost her nerve and fled. Later, after vomiting several times, she reporte
d the incident to the Queen in a fit of hysteria in the Queen’s chambers, with Anne’s other ladies within earshot. Anne was livid. It is not known what knowledge the Queen had of her brother’s affairs at the time, but to have his wife so intently denounce him was a step too far. Most likely this humiliating episode would cost the Boleyns if word spread to the rest of the court.

  Anne called for her father that night to discuss next steps. For a while at least, George would need to retire to the country until rumors of his actions had calmed a bit. They would do what they could to reduce the damage at court, but, surprisingly, there was little. The Queen’s ladies were terrified of spreading rumors, both because of Anne’s wrath and for fear of her lady-in-waiting Audrey. The following day, Jane was removed from the Queen’s service, not to be replaced, and George had retired to his estates in the country, allegedly to tend to business affairs. Jane never returned to court and had a nervous breakdown the following year. She was placed in a nunnery, where she later hung herself.

  George would finally return to court, to little scrutiny, but he would find that the young groom, Matterson, had been removed, as were another two of his grooms, just in case. His father kept him on a very tight leash from that point onward. Anne’s relationship with her brother from then on became slightly strained, but not enough to distance her completely, as she had done with her sister Mary.

  Relations between Anne and her brother were not the only ones strained. She and Henry had been at odds since the affair with Frances began, although the Queen sought desperately to win back the King’s affections in any manner she could. According to Lady Audrey, during one evening’s visit in September, when Henry had been drinking heavily, he rather roughly forced himself upon the Queen, proclaiming she would once again do her duty for England, much as she had done before. Anne did not resist and once it was over, he stayed with her at her table, playing cards. As he came to sobriety through the evening she described how painful it had been watching Henry’s affairs play out, and how embarrassing it was to her. She cried and dropped to the floor, kissing his hand and beseeching his majesty to show her favor. This attempt to rekindle his affections, however desperate, was met with tenderness, as he kissed her on the lips, told her he still very much loved her, and that he had not forsaken her. It was with this small comfort that the Queen insisted on spending the next few days with Henry on a hunt, playing to another of his passions.