Anne of Cleves- Unbeloved

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Anne of Cleves- Unbeloved Page 22

by D Lawrence-Young


  I confess I am justly condemned and I urge you, gentlemen, study to preserve the good you possess and never let pride or greed prevail in you. Serve your king, who is one of the best in the world, and who knows best how to reward his subjects.

  “Well, I hope I get a better reward than that,” Sir Anthony said, pointing at the block where Cromwell was now laying his head. “I didn’t like the man but I hope he doesn’t suffer. You know, Rutland, isn’t that executioner a little young for the job? He’s new, isn’t he? He looks as though he’s not had much experience.”

  Unfortunately for Cromwell, Sir Anthony’s opinion was borne out by fact. After looking at his executioner, Cromwell raised his eyes for the last time to heaven and said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Then he took one last look at the crowds before asking the axeman to remove his head with one blow. It was not to be. Gurrea was no expert, and it took three painful chops to remove Cromwell’s head which then fell onto the bloody straw below. Of the most important reasons given for the chancellor’s untimely demise, the main one was that his royal master had not liked his wife and queen, Anne of Cleves.

  Chapter Nineteen - The Rise of Catherine Howard

  I am free – free for the first time in over a year not to think about a future marriage or actually being married. Free since my mother first told me that master Holbein was coming over to Cleves to paint my portrait for the King of England. And what a year it’s been! So many things have happened. My portrait was painted, I travelled to England, I married the king and then I was divorced. Since then I’ve spent most of my time living here at Richmond Palace being waited on hand and foot. So now I’m probably the richest unmarried woman in England. I have three large, profitable estates and manors, an annual income of at least four thousand pounds, cupboards full of clothes and shoes, boxes of jewellery as well as ladies-in-waiting, servants and a very good staff to work in my kitchen. Apart from the queen and the two princesses, I am the highest ranking woman in this country – me, Anne of Cleves, a marchioness and most important of all, the King’s sister. What an unbelievable situation! I can hardly believe it. From being the sister of a minor Rhineland duke to being a woman in my position, this has all happened within a year and a half!

  But I fear there’s also been a dark side to all of my good fortune. Yesterday Lady Edgecombe told me that Thomas Cromwell, the old chancellor, was executed at the Tower and that three Lutheran clerics were also burned at the stake. Lady Edgecombe said that they’d been burned in order to prove that Cromwell had supported churchmen who had opposed His Majesty’s religious views and so they had to die. I didn’t know these men but I did know the king’s chancellor quite well.

  I know he was the man who had suggested that I should come to England and for that I am now grateful, even though I was not at the time. I also know that most of the court didn’t like him; in fact, many people there were frightened of him and his power but, in the end, I saw that his power did him no good. I must admit that I did not like him either. He was a tough and grasping man and would stop at nothing to achieve his ends - which were usually to get what he wanted for the king. But eventually his enemies, probably with the king’s blessing, banded together under the Duke of Norfolk, brought him down and had him executed. The excuse they used for this was the failure of my marriage to His Majesty.

  Then later in the day I heard that three more clerics were burned at the stake -again because they were connected in some other way to the chancellor. One of them was the chaplain to Catherine of Aragon, the king’s first wife. The second was the tutor to her daughter, Princess Mary, and the third was an unknown cleric who had written to the king in defence of Catherine of Aragon’s Roman Catholic views many years ago.

  When I heard this I thought that His Majesty was a very strange man. Not only did he burn Lutherans, but he also burned Roman Catholics, the men who opposed the Lutheran way of thinking. I think the only reason he did this was because the Roman Catholics also differed from the king’s own religion, the new English Catholic way of thought, his new Church of England. These last three deaths also showed that His Majesty has a very long and vengeful memory. It has been after all, almost ten years now since he banished his first wife and daughter from court.

  Now that I know how full of spite the king can be, I hope I’ve made the right decision to stay here in England and not return to Cleves. I know that my brother would not be happy to see me again, but at least I wouldn’t be executed on my return. I just hope and pray that the king won’t change his mind, and take back all that he’s given me and then treat me as he treated his first wife. Poor thing, she was forced to live in poverty and banished to a gloomy castle far away from London.

  All I know now is that I’ll have to be very careful and make sure that I keep the king happy and give him no cause for complaint or suspicion. I know that sometimes in the past he made some terrible decisions, terrible that is, for the people who later suffered because of them. More than once Lady Rutland and Lady Edgecombe have told me that His Majesty used to boast about how he was at the beginning of his reign some thirty years ago. They told me how he used to be so handsome and active, a dashing ruler with a head of thick auburn hair. He was a man whom all the ladies at court loved to be with, either dancing with him or sitting next to him in the banqueting halls.

  Now, not many of them would wish to do so and I fully understand them. Of course I cannot say this to anyone as this would be considered treason, but he is so fat and heavy and his face is so red and ugly. His eyes are like pig’s eyes, half-hidden in the folds of flesh on his face and he does smell so. No, not all of him, but when you’re near him you can smell the pus that seeps out from the bandages on his legs. Sometimes another woman or I used to tie them up for him in an effort to relieve his pain. But then he would shake his legs and the bandages would work themselves loose and we would all have to pretend we weren’t suffering from the noxious smells that had escaped once again.

  One woman who seems to be prepared to stay with him these days is young Catherine Howard. She was brought into my household, pushed in might be a better way of saying it, by her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk. At first I thought that she’d been given her position just because she was a very pretty and cheerful young girl who’d make me happy as well. For if you remember, for the first three months after my wedding I wasn’t very happy because I didn’t understand what His Majesty wanted from me and it was then that Mistress Howard joined my household. Then later, when my English started to improve, I learned that the duke had pushed her into my household so that he could use his niece as an excuse for him to be closer to the king.

  I must admit that I think the duke’s plan has worked very well. It is very rare today to see His Majesty in court without seeing this young woman next to him. She attends all the banquets, masques and dances and when the king cannot dance because of his painful legs, he tells one of his men to dance with her and then sits there gazing at her just as a proud father would look at his beautiful and clever daughter.

  And then when she’s not dancing, she and the king always seem to be touching and caressing each other. He loves to stroke her smooth skin and is always running his fat hands over the back of her neck and her shoulders. Once, when he thought no-one was looking, I saw him slip his hand down the front of her bodice and fondle her breasts. She didn’t say anything or push his hand away, but just smiled up at him as if she were enjoying this. How she did so, I don’t know. But it was only when he saw that one of the ladies-in-waiting was looking at him that he quickly pulled out his hand like a small boy caught trying to steal sugared almonds from his mother’s kitchen.

  And then, yesterday morning I heard some more news about the king and Mistress Howard. An hour ago when I was in the garden picking some roses, my servant Kathryn came up to me. Even though we used to talk to each other in German she still looked around to see that no-one could overhear us. She told me that she had just arrived from the court where she’d heard
from one of the servants that the king had married Catherine Howard.

  “Married? Already?” I found it hard to believe. “My divorce was finalized only two weeks ago.”

  “I know that, milady, and they’re saying in court that His Majesty married her on the same day that Cromwell was executed, but that it’s been kept a secret until now.”

  “Why? Surely he’s allowed to marry whom he likes, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, milady, but the people at court say he wanted some time to be with her alone, so very few people knew about it. And those who did were sworn to silence.”

  “And where did this marriage take place?”

  “At Oatlands, milady.”

  I smiled. “That’s ironic. His Majesty had that old palace rebuilt for me, but now he’s using it for his new wife.”

  Now it was Kathryn’s turn to smile and we continued talking in German. These English are so bad at learning foreign languages. Some of the more cultured ones at court can speak French and Italian while the scholars know Greek and Latin and perhaps a little biblical Hebrew, but most of the court can speak only English. At times like this I’m very happy that I know German and it’s pleased me that the king has allowed me to keep my two Clevean servants. This also means that I will not forget my mother-tongue.

  “So is the Duke of Norfolk pleased now? He always used to walk around with such a bitter face, as if he’s been forced to swallow a glass of vinegar.”

  “That’s true, milady. But now I haven’t seen him smile so much as I have this past week. Some people have remarked on this and said they didn’t know whether it was because the king had married his niece or because he’d got rid of Cromwell at last.”

  “Probably both,” I said. “But now, I suppose, Norfolk will be wanting to advance his plans for the Roman Catholics as well.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, milady, for I often see him whispering and talking to the Bishop of Winchester, to Stephen Gardiner. Once, when I was walking along one of the corridors in the palace, I overheard them talking about how they’d start making problems for Archbishop Cranmer.”

  “Didn’t they see you?”

  “They probably did, but you know how these lords and bishops tend to ignore us servants - as though we’re invisible - unless they want something? They just carried on talking as if I weren’t there and I continued on my way.”

  I couldn’t understand why these two men would want to cause problems for the archbishop or how they could even do so unless it was all over the question of religion: Catholic or Reform. Archbishop Cranmer was one of the most powerful men in the country but I had no doubt that they would try at least to limit his power even if they couldn’t topple him completely. I knew that the duke and the bishop were two of the most devious men in the kingdom. If Norfolk had succeeded in getting rid of Thomas Cromwell after he’d been in power for almost ten years, I supposed he’d also try and do the same to Archbishop Cranmer. I just wondered when and how it would happen.

  In the meanwhile I continued to enjoy my new life at Richmond as the King’s Sister. As time passed, this magnificent building became my favourite residence and I loved strolling around its great parks and gardens with my friends and courtiers or eating with them in the huge, lavishly decorated banqueting rooms. Sometimes I would watch my friends play tennis in the special courts and, at other times if the weather was fine, I’d go for a ride on the Thames in my barge. There I would glide along the river, pass the green river banks, dangle my fingers in the water and throw crumbs of food to the swans which always seemed to be there. Now I understood why the courtiers and messengers who came to see me at Richmond usually preferred to come by boat if possible. It was a much more relaxing way of travelling than riding over the bumpy roads in a jolting carriage.

  I must admit, however, that after a couple of months at Richmond I found I did miss the court and all its hustle and frenetic activity. And so when at the end of 1540 I received an invitation from the king to come to Hampton Court at the beginning of January, I was very pleased to accept it.

  At first, it was a little strange to be back there and I noticed that the courtiers and servants did not quite know how to relate to me. I was neither royalty nor the wife of a lord, a duke or an earl. I was the King’s Sister. It was as such that I saw everyone defer to me and this I admit, I found rather pleasing. What did trouble me, however, was the thought of how the new queen would receive me. Our rôles had been reversed. When I had been queen, Catherine had been one of my youngest ladies-in-waiting, but now that she was queen, I had to defer to her, even though I wasn’t a lady-in-waiting and was eight years older than her.

  Apart from the question of how I’d be received at court after an absence of six months, there was the question of which presents I should take with me for the king. After all, what do you bring to a man who has everything, and if he does not have it, then he can have it whenever he wants? In the end, after much thought I sent him two magnificent horses, each one caparisoned in a rich purple velvet cloth.

  Then on 3 January 1541 I presented myself at court. At first there were some problems of protocol: how would the young queen formally receive me? Who was to curtsey first? Were our presents to be exchanged publicly before the whole court or was this to be done privately in her chamber? What did the courtly rules of etiquette demand in connection with my meeting the king? What should I call him and what would he call me? Should I curtsey and or should I give him a sisterly kiss? And if so, where? On his cheek or on his lips?

  Before setting off for the palace I heard from one of my servants that Queen Catherine was a trifle nervous about seeing me again, especially as we would both be in our new rôles. Later I found out that she’d had a hurried consultation with Chancellor Audley, the new Earl of Essex who, as Cromwell’s successor, was now acting as head of the royal household.

  However, despite all our fears, all went ahead very smoothly. I entered the queen’s presence and immediately made a low curtsey and wished Her Majesty well. I must say that my past lady-in-waiting also played her part well and asked me to rise immediately and to come and sit next to her. To my joy, she received me most kindly and showed me much favour and courtesy. I then looked around for His Majesty but saw he was not present. I believe he wanted to see how his new queen and I would get along with one another before he appeared. Then once he saw that we were having a pleasant conversation, he made his own entrance and greeted me with all courtesy and friendship.

  Perhaps my gift of two horses helped because he immediately greeted me with a low bow and then kissed and embraced me. We three then retired to a private chamber and partook of a most enjoyable supper while, in the background, some beautiful lute, viola and recorder music was being played.

  His Majesty was very interested in what I was doing with my life now that I was no longer his wife and he asked me many questions. Then he said he was feeling tired and wished to retire for the night. Before leaving he said that we two women, ‘his wife and his past wife’ as he phrased it, should remain in the chamber and continue talking and ‘gossiping as you women know how best to do.’ Then the queen and I returned to the main hall where after dancing with each other, we danced with several gentlemen of the court.

  The following day the queen, seeing that she’d got on so well with me presented me with two lap dogs and a beautiful jewelled ring. I thought this was very gracious of her and thanked her most sincerely.

  I stayed at the palace for one more day and then returned to Richmond. However, before I left, the king gave me another present, an annual rent of one thousand ducats. This of course made me very happy, not only because of the money, but also because it showed that His Majesty still thought kindly of me and wished me well in my future. Even though our married life had been short and unsuccessful, it was clear that my new title as the King’s Sister meant something more than mere words. All in all, I considered that my first visit to see my past husband and his new wife had been a success.

  Perh
aps one of the reasons for this success was that none of us spoke about politics or religion. Catherine was a member of the powerful Norfolk Roman Catholic clan, while I’d been brought up to be much less staunch in my beliefs and the king’s religious beliefs had not yet been clearly defined. Nevertheless, despite our differences, especially between Catherine and myself, when it came to talking about clothes, shoes and jewellery, we found we had lots to talk about. And of course this included gossiping about various members of the king’s court: what they were doing and who they were doing it with. The queen kept telling me how much her new husband had showered her with jewellery and fine clothes, and I told her that I had noticed this. I also said that she looked very happy to be his wife.

  I told her that whenever I met her when I’d been at court she had seemed to be wearing a new gown or a different cluster of jewels to decorate it. I joked I’d never seen so many different rubies, diamonds and amethysts. She laughed and said that she’d had to change her clothes and jewels so often as the king had given her so many. She said that he had insisted on seeing her try them out in front of him and all of his courtiers. As she said this, she drew me to her, kissed me and said that she’d not worn so many different gowns and jewels just to show she’d received more from the king than I had. I told her that I believed her and we laughed together and hugged and kissed each other again.

  However, soon after I returned to Richmond, I was to hear some truly disturbing news about the queen’s conduct at court, news that would shake the royal family and cause even more heads to roll, either into the bloody basket on Tower Hill or at the hanging tree at Tyburn.

  Chapter Twenty - The Fall of Catherine Howard

  Just three months after my successful visit to court, Lady Rutland approached me as I was sitting in the warm sunshine in the garden. I was trying to understand some English love poetry. Lady Edgecombe had recommended some of Sir Thomas Wyatt’s poems since they were easy to understand and he tended to use simple vocabulary.

 

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