by G Lawrence
The knights charged in to the loud cheering of the crowd and we could see the Emperor’s ambassadors laughing delightedly and asking Wolsey questions; they were anxious to know which knight the King was. Wolsey’s face was alive with joy seeing his great entertainment unfold. He shook his head at the ambassadors and wagged a finger playfully at them; they would have to discern who the King was themselves.
The vices jeered the knights as they marched to the foot of the battlements: “Knights? I see none!” Sharp-Tongue shouted over the cheers of the crowd. “Where are these knights of whom you speak?” He made a great show of looking over the knights’ heads. The crowd booed him but laughed, too, to see the knights heckled so. All the vices appeared to be having the greatest of times insulting the knights. The knights called back to them, demonstrating their virtues by the phrases they cried out.
Loyalty called out above the roars of the crowd, “I would never abandon a lady, even one as ugly as Lady Gossip!” to which the crowd bellowed with laughter. Lady Gossip jeered back to him, “I would never wish for such a knight as you, if what has been whispered in mine ear of your prowess is true!”
The spokesman of the knights, William Cornish, dressed as Ardent Desire brought forth Youth and Desire to the head of the party of knights to beg the virtues to come forth from the castle and escape with them. Beauty called out to them, “We are prisoners here, good sirs, held at the will of the vices that hold us. Only knights of true love could rescue us from the battlements of this lonely castle.”
There was a great roar, and the Knights of Love charged the castle pelting the vices with dates and oranges. The vices threw armfuls of rose petals and sugared plums back at them. It got slippery and sticky on the castle walls rapidly and I could not help but burst out with laughter as I ducked to narrowly avoid a date covered in honey that flew like a missile and bounced from the castle walls. Mary, too, was rolling with laughter as she ducked rather ineffectively and stood covered with the juices of oranges, with petals of white and red roses stuck to her cheeks and her gown. She looked beautiful, even in such a strange garb as this, as she always did when she was happy.
The crowds were screaming with laughter, egging on the knights and booing the vices as they kept up their defence of the castle. I was already weak with laughter myself, although I joined with the others to encourage the knights.
Eventually the knights won their way to the battlements and under the torrent of oranges and dried fruits the vices fled from a side door of the mock castle, screaming insults to the knights as they ran. The gates of the castle were thrown open and suddenly, to the crowd’s surprise, hidden musicians inside the castle began to play, striking up a lively tune. There was another great cheer as indeed it seemed as though the music came from nowhere and everywhere at once, like magic. To the sounds of that beautiful music we ladies took to our heels and fled from the castle. Mary ran straight into the arms of Amourness, as I am sure was intended. The King grasped her laughing in his arms. For a virtue, my sister had little resistance to his great arms as they engulfed her, claiming her as his prize.
I ran out, and, whilst looking where my sister had run to, ran straight into another knight dressed as Liberty. Flung into his arms by the force of my racing feet, I almost lost my footing in my surprise. He turned quickly, and in a graceful and elegant move, twirled me in his arms so that I was caught and suspended backwards, lying across his arms. I laughed merrily; my black eyes sparkled at him. He had saved me from a fall with his clever move and strong arms. I looked up into blue flashing eyes and for a second I thought it was the King I was looking up at, but it was Edward Neville, a man who looked so like the King himself that some thought them to be brothers.
I laughed again, thanking him as he lifted me to my feet; he swept a graceful bow to me, and held out his hand, claiming me now as his prize. I gave him an elegant curtsey and my hand. As he led me to the centre of the room for the main dance, I suddenly caught sight of the King leading Mary to the floor; he was looking our way with an expression of slight displeasure. Although his hand was holding Mary’s gently, he appeared to be looking only at myself and Neville with irritation. I was confused, wondering if my accidental trip into Neville’s arms and his subsequent move to stop me from falling to the floor had been too inelegant and had displeased the King. I blushed and was led to the floor by my partner, trying to not look at the King. I could not believe that my exit from the castle would have been so inelegant as to cause such a look of displeasure.
But during the dance that followed between the virtues of femininity and the knights of love, there seemed to be nothing amiss. The King, dancing with my sister, looked merry and happy. The ambassadors were eager to praise the wealth and intelligence of England, impressed by our little scene. I thought perhaps I had imagined the dark look from the King, and strove to think no more on the matter, but to give my attention to the challenging dance we performed for the crowd. After the formal dance was ended we were unmasked by the King to great applause, and then the courtiers in the hall came forward for the next dance. As the floor filled anew, we virtues, and the knights, escaped to change our clothing and to return in our best apparel for the rest of the night’s entertainments.
As Neville released me to go and change, he kissed my hand. “I believe I was the most fortunate of knights to dance with the most beautiful woman in the castle.”
I laughed merrily. “And yet, my lord, I was not chosen to play Beauty,” I said. “I believe that others with more measured vision chose the roles well.”
Neville shook his head and was about to say more when the King called to him to attend on him and help him change. Neville bowed and swept away from me. I went to change my sticky dress, its beautiful silks entirely ruined from the night’s entertainment. A true show of wealth, when one can buy the most expensive fabrics and cast them into ruin for a night’s pleasure!
When we returned to the hall, I partnered Tom in the dance; he was as swift of foot as he was of tongue and it was a joy to dance with him. Although I was trying to be a little aloof with him, given my sneaking suspicions that he was infatuated with me, I could not help but feel my heart skip in excitement when I saw him. We were much of an age and rank and he was clever, handsome and witty. But he was also married, and those pleading eyes could offer me nothing I could accept.
“What did you think of the entertainment, Mistress Boleyn?” Tom asked as we danced together.
“I thought that perhaps the vices were the wiser creatures,” I said laughing. “For they saw truth through disguise and fled from capture, as I would do in reality.”
“Shall none capture you then?” he asked with his eyes sparkling and his hand clutching mine as he turned me.
“None, but they whom I will to,” I said warningly. “And that shall be the greatest prize I offer to the man I will call husband.”
“No one chooses who they marry, Anne,” he said with a sigh. “And love cannot happen just because one has vowed to marry someone; most people find love outside their marriage bed.”
I sniffed and bowed the last of the dance to him. As I rose to standing I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I am not most people, Tom.” I took the hand of Henry Norris, a Gentleman of the Bedchamber, to partner me in the next dance.
I was not trying to be cruel to Tom, although it must have seemed that way to him. But I could not allow my defences to lower around him; he was a danger to me because, in truth, I desired him as he desired me. The only difference between us was that he would not suffer if we acted on that desire, and I would. And who was to say that his desire would not be over as soon as I had succumbed? Men were fickle in their desires, this I knew from my experience within the Court of France. For a moment of pleasure that would not last, should I be expected to lose all the virtue and honour I had sought so hard to retain all these years? I thought not.
Chapter Eight
Greenwich Palace
May 1522
Easter
came, and I was astonished to find that the great offerings of fish at court were more fabulous than I could have imagined before coming to England. Meat was not allowed during this holy time, but the fresh waters, streams, pools and seas of England, it seemed, were more than able to keep us stocked with good fish during this time.
The court feasted on roasted pike, sallats of Alexander buds with whelks, boiled shrimp and mussels in leek and onion broth, dressed crab, sturgeon in aysell vinegar, baked oysters, fried whiting, and trout pate pies. There were tarts and stews, roasted fish, fried fish and fish stew. Lamprey, herring and even porpoise and seal were added to our platters. I had thought the French understood fish and seafood better than any other country, but when I tasted of the fish dishes of England, I understood better. Perhaps it was only to be expected really; England was an island. It stood to reason that they would understand the offerings of their many shores and streams perhaps better than nations not wholly surrounded by water.
As the bright celandines appeared, yellow and golden, shining through the dull mud, they heralded the coming of the sun once more to this wind-swept and rain-splattered isle. The celandines glinted like little suns themselves in the spring sunshine. The common people called these flowers ‘the Spring Messengers’ and welcomed their appearance, for then all knew that life was returning to the land. Youthful shoots of grain crops started to appear upon the fields and the singing of field-workers was heard in the distance in the parks when we rode out. Hoglets of wild boar began to appear, their striped and spotted brown bodies rustling through the undergrowth as they raced after their gigantic mothers. All about us were the cries of young rooks as they nested in the giant rookeries in the grounds of the palaces, their loud squawks for food being answered by the deeper, throaty calls of their parents.
It was as though life was truly returning to these lands. I felt it more keenly than I had ever felt such a thing in France or Burgundy. Each day, as I rose to see whether ill storms or bright sunshine covered England, I would feel a little skip of excitement within me. England’s weather was so variable, and changeable, that it was almost a constant adventure to see what might happen in the skies each day. I had come to hold some admiration for the bold storms of winter, but looked towards the coming of summer with relief, like the rest of the country, and in hopes for clement skies and the warmth of the sun returning.
In May, as the woodlands and forests burst forth with bluebells and white-purple wood anemones, coppicing began and charcoal burning erupted through the forests, bringing the rich scent of burning hazel and willow floating through the trees. And as we lifted our noses to sniff for the coming of summer, there came a most important visitor to our shores; Charles, Duke of Burgundy, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain.
Although other rulers of other lands would never care to admit it, Charles was the most powerful ruler in Europe. He inherited the Low Countries and Burgundy through his grandfather Maximilian I, and held the elected title of Holy Roman Emperor which came from the Prince-electors and was secured by a crown from the Pope. He also inherited the crowns of Aragon and Castile through his mother, the mad Queen Juana, and from the Hapsburgs he inherited Austria and other lands through Europe. Charles’ empire was vast, and also included lands extending into southern Italy, and far across the oceans, the lands of the New World. Since he was the first King to take both the crowns of Aragon and Castile as his own, he was coming to be referred to as the first true King of Spain.
I had seen Charles at the court of the Archduchess Margaret in Burgundy, when he was a young man, but since then, he had come into lands and fortunes that could hardly be imagined. He was a cultured and educated prince, who spoke many languages, and once said, “I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men, and German to my horse,” which was something much quoted of him.
Charles came to England to form an alliance with his uncle-by-marriage, King Henry, against France. He wanted Henry of England to become a part of his military aspirations to take Italy as part of his empire. Later stages of this plan also included the invasion of France, and the quiet betrothal of Henry of England’s only daughter, Princess Mary, to the Emperor. The King of England and his ally may have thought this betrothal was a secret, but all at court knew of it through rumour and gossip. It was controversial, as in marrying his only heir to the Emperor, Henry was effectively making Charles the future King of England… something which could cause great fear and unrest amongst his people.
At the time, Charles was threatened by a rebellion in Castile and was bringing 4,000 troops from the Low Countries and Germany to subdue the revolt against his power. He could hardly bring these troops to England whilst on a diplomatic mission, and so he left them in the Low Countries, with my old mistress and his aunt, the Archduchess Margaret, for the six weeks he visited England. It was a testament to how highly the King of England valued this visit that Henry offered to pay for the costs of Charles’ stay in his lands.
At first, it was reported that Charles intended to bring over two thousand people to attend him on his visit, but later this number was reduced, much to Henry’s relief, to just under four hundred men of rank and about the same number of servants. The others were to wait for him in Zeeland and join Charles at Southampton when he sailed. Leading nobles, men of the Church and administrators were brought from Spain and the Low Countries, with the Duke of Alba leading the Spanish nobility, and the Prince of Orange leading the Dutch delegation. Not only the palaces of England, but the homes of all nobles were to be opened to these visitors during their stay, for there was no place large enough to house all of them, as well as the court, in one place.
The French were most put out by this extraordinary show of friendship between their two rivals, and several arrests of English merchants in Bordeaux were attributed to this bile. Wolsey summoned the French ambassador to court, and shouted at the man as though he were a child, demanding to know what the promises of the French King were worth, if he went against the terms of the Treaty of London which was still held between France and England. The ambassador was reduced almost to house arrest, and the Lord Mayor of London was given leave to imprison French men in the capital and sequester their goods. Henry even sent the English navy into the Channel to attack French ships… but he had not declared outright war on France yet; the English King wanted to see what might come of this visit from his nephew first.
Wolsey went with a great entourage to Dover, where he met and entertained Charles in magnificent style, and the King went to meet them there. He proudly showed his nephew his great ship, the Henry Grace a Dieu, the flagship of the huge English fleet. Charles was most impressed, not only by the naval fleet, but also by the artillery, of which, he claimed, he had never seen the like before. The party rode on through Canterbury and Sittingbourne where they were entertained by Bishop John Fisher, and on to Gravesend where thirty barges waited to carry them to Greenwich Palace and to the heart of the court.
We waited for the arrival of this great Emperor at the waterfront at Greenwich. I stood to one side of Katherine, with Bridget and Margaret, and watched as my mistress tried to contain the excitement she felt at seeing her nephew. Although she was usually a master at such control, I looked down at her feet, noting that she was bobbing a little up and down on her toes, like a child, as we watched the barges approach. She saw me looking at her, and met my eyes with a smile.
“You see all with those great black eyes, Mistress Boleyn,” she whispered to me, bringing her heels down on the wet ground once more.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty…” I cast my eyes downwards, trying not to smile. Katherine grinned at me and reached out to lift my chin. At her side, Lady Margaret Pole looked on her friend and mistress’ excitement with pleasure.
“Yes, you see I am excited,” she said. “I try to maintain my dignity of course, but I cannot hide it as well as I would wish. This young man, my own beloved sister’s boy… He is now a great king, and an emperor! I have so longed to see him;
blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh… and now I am to see him, and he is in alliance with my beloved husband...” She smiled and let out a contented sigh. Then a shadow seemed to fall over her face, and she shook her head. “I had a son once, Mistress Boleyn, did you know that?” I looked up at her and nodded shortly.
“A great and goodly prince he would have been, Majesty,” I said softly, “had God not seen fit to call him from us.”
She nodded. “He was the sweetest babe I ever looked upon,” she said with a catch in her throat. “Although I cannot speak against the will of God, I admit that I miss him. I mourn for his loss each and every day. I would have liked, above all things, to see him grow, to see him become a man, a king, as great as his father.” Her face creased with sorrow. “But it was God’s will that my son be called from this life and into the Kingdom of Heaven,” she continued. “In some ways… seeing the son of my dearest sister… it is as though I am shown what my own boy might have become. As though Charles is not only my sister’s son, my nephew, but as though he is as my own son… Does that make sense, Mistress Boleyn?”