Anne of Cleves- Unbeloved

by D Lawrence-Young

  Cromwell stopped and stepped back a step.

  “Sire, I know you told your council that you have decided to marry the lady, but what I’m trying to do is this. I’m hoping to give you good reason for doing so. I do not wish you to feel that you are putting your head in a noose. I’m just asking you to take everything relevant into consideration and be convinced of the wisdom of that decision. Too much depends on this decision and I’m sure you will not allow an, how shall I phrase it, Sire? – an unwise decision to be taken. In all, Your Majesty, I’m sure the recent embarrassing situation in Rochester will be allowed to pass unnoted and forgotten, especially as very few people were present when it occurred.”

  Cromwell permitted himself a small smile. Past experience had taught him to know when he had succeeded in convincing his royal master over a certain plan or argument. Now he waited for His Majesty’s reaction.

  “You are right, Thomas. You usually are. But do not think that you can escape scot-free with all your plans and reasons. Although I said I’ll marry this Cleves woman, I’m certainly not feeling very happy about it. And,” he added, wagging a finger at his chancellor as an angry teacher does to an errant pupil, “I’m certainly not pleased with you for having got me involved in this situation in the first place. Despite what you’ve just told me and despite what I said to the council earlier, I’m still thinking that if there is a way that I can get out of this situation, and one that will not imperil my kingdom, I will carry it out. Do you understand?”

  Cromwell shifted uncomfortably on his legs. “Yes, Your Majesty, I do.”

  “Then you should remember to be very careful in the future, for I’ll not look kindly on any similar plans to these. Is that clear?’

  “Yes, Sire.”

  “You are dismissed,” and Henry heaved himself up, turned his back on his chancellor and pointed to the door.

  It was a very worried man who left the king’s chamber that morning. Was it a coincidence, he thought, that just as he turned the corridor to walk to his own office, there through an open window he could make out the four square towers of the Tower of London on the nearby horizon?

  And so, as the king commanded, the wedding arrangements which had already been organized were now given further impetus. The royal officials and servants moved to carry out their latest orders for His Majesty’s first official meeting with his fourth wife. This was to be in the New Year on 3 January 1540.

  And while all this frantic activity was being carried out in London, Anne and her party were leaving Rochester and were making their way to the capital. First they passed through Gravesend and then continued for an overnight stay at Dartford. The queen-to-be was now only fourteen miles from London and her new husband.

  As she sat in her carriage, between waving to the cheering crowds who had gathered along the way and who were oblivious of what lay behind the scene, Anne could not help but wonder what her reception would be like in London. Was her first meeting with the king just a temporary setback? Was her husband-to-be really such a gross fellow and would she be able to calm him down if he were still angry with her?

  She had absolutely no idea how he would greet her and what she would be expected to do. All she knew as she left the Dominican priory in Dartford the next day was that she would have to act as demurely and as submissively as possible. As she and her retinue made its inexorable way west, she hoped and prayed that the royal storm she had witnessed in Rochester was just that, a passing storm in an otherwise calm sea. Only time would tell.

  Chapter Eleven - A Glorious Procession and a Last Minute Meeting

  If Cromwell thought that fate, Holbein and various high officials and councillors, both English and Clevean, had betrayed him, then at least the weather on the morning of 3 January 1540 was on his side. The sun had risen over the capital and burned away many of the clouds by the time hundreds of people had started swarming to where the king would officially first meet his fourth wife. The air was crisp and cold where the magnificent pavilions and tents had been pitched at Blackheath at the foot of Shooter’s Hill.

  The tents, prepared for Anne and her retinue, had been warmed and perfumed. They stood near a special pathway that had been cleared so that a royal route led them from the tented encampment straight to the gate of Greenwich Park. Cromwell had indeed thought of every detail which would make this meeting as successful as possible.

  On each side of the processional route, merchants, English, Italian and Spanish, together with members from the city council and aldermen, had gathered round ready to cheer their new queen. This crowd was made larger and more impressive by the presence of several knights and fifty pensioners, all wearing their gold chains of office over their rich velvet uniforms. And if all this were not enough, then Cromwell had arranged that the king’s men, together with those of his own retinue and those of the Duke of Southampton and other nobles, would also be present. Many of these showy figures were mounted on their richly caparisoned horses. On the outer edge of this magnificent scene the people of London were also there to cheer on their king’s new wife.

  At twelve o’clock Anne and her retinue appeared after completing the last part of their route from Dartford. The Londoners were immediately impressed by her.

  “‘Ere, Tom, she looks nice, don’t she? All smiling. But who’s that with her? Yes, them on those two fine horses?”

  “The first one? ‘im on the left? That’s the Duke of Norfolk. Don’t you recognise ‘is skinny face? And the one next to ‘im is the Duke of Suffolk.”

  “And is that the Archbishop of Canterbury behind him?”

  Tom craned his head and stood on tiptoe. “That’s right, ‘im and all those other bishops and lords. But ssh, be quiet, I’m trying to hear what the Earl of Rutland’s saying. That’s ‘im, standing next to Sir Thomas Dennis and Doctor Daye.”

  “I can’t hear ‘im. What’s ‘e saying?”

  Tom put his hand to his ear and strained to listen to what was being said. “Sorry, mate. I don’t know. I can’t hear ‘im that well. But I can just about ‘ear that ‘e’s saying something in Latin, at least, it sounds like church language. I suppose ‘e’s saying something like welcome to London or England or somethin’ like that. All I can make out is the word bene.”

  “Here look, there’s that foreign looking feller, yes, ‘im in the funny hat. ‘e’s replying to ‘im. Is he also speaking Latin?”

  “Yes, I think so, but ‘e’s turned ‘is back on me so I can’t ‘ear ‘im properly either.”

  “Ooh, look over there. Just look at those ladies. Aren’t they dressed nice? I bet their clothes must be worth a fortune – all that gold cloth and jewels and stuff.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. You know who any of ‘em are?”

  Harry raised himself as high as he could on his toes. “Yes, I can recognize some of them. That one over there is Lady Frances Dorset and she’s standing next to Lady Margaret Douglas. They’re the king’s nieces.”

  “And isn’t that the Duchess of Richmond standing behind them – the one with the low-cut bodice?”

  “Yes, that’s right. She really does look something, doesn’t she, in that gown?”

  “Aye, she does that. By the way, ‘ow do you know who all these people are?

  I can recognize only one or two of them.”

  “Don’t you remember, Tom, I used to work at the gardens at Hampton Court. Was there for nigh on five years. Saw nearly all of these lords and ladies then. But I must say, ‘is Majesty has really laid it on for ‘is new wife this time. ‘e never did as much as this for the others.”

  “Look, look! There’s the Lady Anne again. She’s getting out of her carriage. She looks all right, don’t she?”

  “Yes, but isn’t she wearing funny clothes? All bundled up, like. They look foreign, not English at all. I mean, not like our English ladies.”

  “Yeah, come to think of it, you’re right. Look at her ‘at. It’s a bit strange. It’s like a cowl with bits stuck on it hanging off the
sides. I think our English ‘ats are prettier.”

  “So do I. By the way, Tom, I wonder what ‘is Majesty will think of ‘er clothes. I know my Alice wouldn’t like them. Too heavy, she’d say. Not that we can afford to buy anything like them, of course.”

  “Neither can we. My Jane would agree with you there. But look, she’s kissing all the king’s ladies now. Must be thanking ‘em for looking after ‘er. But I must say, even despite her clothes, she does look pretty, don’t she? I think,” and here Tom lowered his voice, “I think she looks prettier than the king’s last one, that Queen Jane, don’t you?”

  Harry nodded in agreement.

  “Can you see what she’s doing now?”

  “No, not now,” Harry said, moving his head from side to side. “She’s just gone into one of those tents. That big one over there. I suppose they’ll be giving ‘er some cakes and wine, or something like that.”

  “Probably. I tell you, ‘arry. I wish I’d brought something to eat and drink, myself. My stomach’s rumbling something awful. Let’s see if we can find ourselves a meat-pie and a bottle of ale.”

  While Tom and Harry were setting out on their mission, the king was setting out from Greenwich Palace to meet his future. He rode through the park, his entourage led by his richly-dressed court officials, all in purple velvet and all mounted on magnificent horses, their caparisons blowing gently in the January breeze. Then the king followed. His clothes, too, were of purple velvet, embellished with shining jewellery and gold buttons, deep red rubies and sparkling diamonds. His hat and sword belt were similarly adorned. If he had intended to present a picture of power and wealth, he certainly succeeded.

  The captains of the guard, Sir Anthony Wingfield and Sir Anthony Browne, rode next to him. They, too, were dressed in their finest cloaks and gowns and their horses were also brightly caparisoned. By the time this cavalcade had reached the tent where Anne and her ladies were resting, Tom and Harry had returned, each clutching a meat pie and a bottle of ale. This time Harry’s wife, Alice, was with them.

  “Look, Alice. The Lady Anne is coming out of ‘er tent to meet ‘im, the king, I mean. Can you see ‘er gown? It’s pretty even if it does look a bit strange. Don’t you think so?”

  Alice nodded. “Yes, and I like that coronet thing she’s wearing on top of her hat. All black and pearls. It certainly makes ‘er hat look better. Not so heavy looking. I wouldn’t mind having a coronet like that and I’m sure your Jane wouldn’t either,” she said, nodding her head at Tom.

  Tom raised his head. “Look, you two. Lady Anne’s getting on ‘er horse now and riding towards the king.”

  “And some of her footmen are going with her. Look, they’re all together now.”

  “Yes, and can you see that ‘is Majesty has taken off ‘is ‘at to her. I must say, ‘e don’t ‘ave much hair, does ‘e?”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Alice giggled and then clapped her hand over Tom’s mouth. “Keep your voice down, Tom,” she whispered. “There’s guards everywhere. But it’s true, you don’t often see him without his hat on, do you?”

  “Aye, you’re right, there, my dear. But can you hear what they’re saying to each other?”

  “No, Harry. We’re too far away, but it’s true what you said about her gown. It doesn’t look very English, does it?” Alice cocked her head to one side to have a better look. “I think it’s more Dutch style, but it matches her bonnet even though it’s not like the Frenchie ones that all the rich ladies like wearing. Now if I were a lady at court…”

  But Tom and Harry were not to find out what Alice’s courtly aspirations were for her words were suddenly drowned out by a blast of trumpets. The king and his new lady were making their way through the lines of the assembled lords, ladies and important churchmen. Then, at a given signal, all of the king’s company mounted their horses or entered their carriages and set off for Greenwich Palace. As they did so, Tom, Harry and Alice, together with hundreds of Londoners walked alongside doing their best to keep up with the mounted horsemen and the glittering carriages.

  “Say, ‘arry,” said Tom suddenly, pointing in the direction of the procession. “Why is that carriage over there empty? Look, there’s no-one in it. I’m prepared to jump inside it.”

  “I’m sure you are, my friend, but don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just heard the bloke behind me say it was a present from the king to Lady Anne, and I don’t think she’d be very ‘appy to see Master Tom Tomkins riding in it, do you?”

  “No, I suppose not. But don’t you think our English soldiers look better than the Lady Anne’s? I don’t like their black uniforms very much. They look kind of threatening.”

  Harry and Alice nodded in agreement and said that the king’s men-at-arms looked far more regal than the Clevean ones. “But I suppose,” Harry added, “when you come from a little place like Cleves, you’ve got to make your soldiers look fierce or otherwise everyone will attack you.”

  “Hey, stop a minute, you two,” Alice said, tugging at her husband’s sleeve. “Everyone’s come to a halt.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Look, the king and Lady Anne and the others are all listening to those people over there. Can’t you see?” Alice said pointing to the head of the procession. “There’s a choir over there of some sort. Look, all those churchmen and children. Listen. They’re singing hymns, I think. I must say, they do sound good from ‘ere, even though I can’t ‘ear the words properly. Can you?”

  Tom and Harry shook their heads and while they were doing so, there was some more serious shaking of heads taking place just less than half a mile away in his chamber at Greenwich Palace. Thomas Cromwell was having a final meeting with some of his most loyal officials. Urged on by his insistent tone they were still trying to work out a diplomatic way of annulling the imminent wedding. Was there nothing they could do to save their king?

  “Is there no evidence of a pre-nuptial contract with the Duke of Lorraine’s son?” Cromwell kept asking as he paced his office, his body bent forward, his hands clenched behind his back.

  “No, sir. We’ve studied every document, every piece of paper we have. There’s absolutely nothing here which can prevent His Majesty from marrying the Lady Anne.”

  The chancellor stopped his pacing up and down long enough to ask his next question. “And have you spoken to Chancellor Olisleger and Ambassador Hochsteden again?”

  “Yes, sir. We spent over two hours with them yesterday going over the whole situation.”

  Cromwell sat down. He was still not completely sure that the king would indeed marry the Lady Anne and, as a result, he could not help but wonder how he had got himself into this situation. He knew that it was not really his fault, but would His Majesty see it that way? He doubted it. But he did not doubt how His Majesty would react. It did not bear thinking about. Lesser men than I have paid very heavily for displeasing his royal master, Cromwell thought. Some paid with their purses and the less fortunate ones paid with their heads. The chancellor rubbed his neck. Maybe I should have listened to my father after all and stayed on as a soldier abroad. Ah well, it’s too late now. Now I’ve got to do something about my king and this woman because if I cannot find an answer soon…

  Cromwell was brought out of his morbid thoughts by a polite cough from one of his older officials. He was standing at the chancellor’s elbow with a rolled up document in his hand. “Sir? What do we do now?”

  “Haven’t you found any faults, any legal loopholes that might render our contract with the Duke of Cleves null and void?” the desperate Cromwell asked yet again.

  “No, sir. It’s all exactly as it should be. There’s nothing wrong with it at all. Nothing,” a tall cadaverous-looking official said, looking up from the table.

  “That’s true, sir,” the other black-coated official added. “While you were working on the arrangements for the procession and the wedding, we read and reread all the documents one hundred times to see
if there were any such loopholes.”

  “And were there any? Even a small one?”

  “No, sir. There’s not even a jot out of place.”

  Cromwell’s shoulders slumped even lower and he cast his eyes over the document strewn desk. “Then that means we have no choice,” he said quietly. “The king will have to go through with it. But don’t any of you ever dare to mention what we did in this office today. Because if you do and I hear that word has got out, you will have me to deal with. Is that clear?”

  The four black-coated officials nodded their heads vigorously. Just as Cromwell knew his master and king, so these men knew their master and chancellor.

  Cromwell shrugged again in resignation. “Well, let’s hope she gives him a son, and quickly.” He then held his hands as if in prayer. “For if not, I do not want to think of my own future.”

  “Fear not, sir. She seems to be a lusty lady,” the fattest official said. “I’m sure that once His Majesty and the lady are left together in private they’ll both do their duty. You’ll see. This time next year we’ll be sitting here laughing and working out the details of a royal christening. Just you wait.”

  Keeping this in mind as some sort of cold comfort, Cromwell hurried off to make his report to the king. He had done his best and now everything depended on His Majesty ‘doing his duty’ as one of his most senior officials had phrased it.

  In the meanwhile, the royal procession had reached the courtyard at Greenwich Palace. Just as Tom, Harry and Alice were about to push their way through the crowds to the front, the sound of a powerful explosion rent the air.