Above All Others

by G Lawrence

  “By the faith!” I muttered. “Why is nothing ever simple?”

  I had ventured to seek Henry’s favour for my supporters; but there was trouble. Earlier that year I had petitioned that a man named Sir Thomas Cheney be allowed to return to court. He had offended Cardinal Wolsey on some matter which was of small import, and had found himself banished from court. Cheney wrote to me, asking for my help, and offering his support in return. I had asked Henry to overrule the Cardinal and he had done so. That had been simple enough.

  Later, however, when I was at Hever, Cheney had written to me again. He wanted to gain the wardship, and eventually the hand, of one of the two daughters of a gentleman of Wolsey’s household who had died of the sweat. John Broughton’s daughters were now wealthy heiresses, and their wardships had been granted to Wolsey. The family, however, wanted to retain guardianship, and had sent Sir John Russell, who had been Broughton’s stepfather, to ask Wolsey that wardship of the girls be granted to him, instead. Russell was in high favour with the Cardinal, and Wolsey had valued Broughton, so the family had good hopes their wishes would be granted.

  But Cheney also had an interest. He was keen to marry the younger sister, Katherine, when she came of age and his friend, Sir John Wallop, wanted to secure the elder daughter, Anne. Russell heard of Cheney’s plans and brought Thomas Heneage and Thomas Arundel in to intercede on his behalf with the Cardinal. Russell insisted that the elder, Anne, was of age to marry, and therefore her wardship was not the King’s to grant. He was, in fact, lying, as both girls were not old enough to marry. It was therefore the position of the sovereign to appoint their guardian.

  “Cheney and Wallop have only good intentions for these girls,” I said to Henry. “They are noble lords, seeking honourable marriages.” I slid my hand about his neck and kneaded the tight muscles there. “It would please me a great deal, Henry, if this should come to pass.”

  “Since I am displeased that Russell attempted to lie to get his own way, sweetheart, I am inclined to agree with you.” Henry leaned his neck into my hand and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of my hands. “If the agreement is that the girls will be married to their guardians when they come of age to do so, I will agree to Cheney and Wallop taking charge of them.”

  I was pleased to have gained such lucrative posts for two men who had promised to support my cause. It was all going well, until a blistering fight broke out between Russell and Cheney in the King’s own chambers. Henry found this most distasteful, decided that Cheney had gone too far and announced that the wardships would revert to Wolsey. This then caused another argument, this time with Cheney pitted against the Cardinal, who promptly banished him from court. I called him back again. Since the man was in my household, the Cardinal should have come to me before sending him away. I knew Wolsey was only attempting to rid the court of another of my supporters and petitioned Henry for my men again. As a compromise, Wolsey gave up the wardship of Anne Broughton, who eventually became the wife of Cheney. It was agreed that the younger sister, Katherine, would remain Wolsey’s ward, for the time being at least, but I assured Wallop I would do my best for him. If I could not get him this wife, I would find him an equally good match.

  This rather complex affair brought me against the Cardinal again, not directly, but hardly covertly either. It seemed that wherever I tried to move, the Cardinal was there to stop me. He was clever, never allowing it to appear as though he was thwarting me on purpose, but I knew well that he was. I gained an enemy, in Russell, who was not pleased about the outcome, but I also had two more supporters in Cheney and Wallop. I asked Henry to compensate Wallop for his loss in the amount of four hundred pounds, a princely sum. It was not only these supporters I had gained of late, either. Upon my return to court, I had been busy gathering allies…

  My cousin, Francis Bryan was dark of hair, quick of wit, and handsome, despite the fact he only had one eye. His black velvet eyepatch glittered with diamonds, just as his remaining eye sparkled over the court ladies. He had a wild reputation, and once in France had demanded “a soft bed and a hard harlot” from his outraged landlord. He was known about court as “the Vicar of Hell”, for he was religiously dedicated to sin. But for all his unruliness, he was a clever man and I was pleased when he came offering his support. He spoke his mind openly more often than not, much as I did. After Will died, I had asked that Bryan be appointed to the Privy Chamber to take his place, and that autumn I asked that Bryan be sent to meet the slow-moving Campeggio. I thought that perhaps a member of my own house could hurry the Cardinal along, but even though Bryan promised to do all he could, Campeggio still crawled towards England as though he rode a snail rather than a horse. Bryan wrote to me often, calling me “mistress” and “madam” as though I were Queen already. This pleased Henry, and I was happy that another member of my family was advancing at court.

  Whilst we waited for Campeggio, a new French ambassador, Bishop Jean du Bellay, arrived at court and Henry and I were quick to engage him. The Queen and her servants looked naturally to the Emperor Charles for support and, to my delight, Henry was now considering an alliance with France. Charles was unlikely to invade in the defence of his aunt, but it did not hurt to have powerful friends. We took du Bellay hunting and I presented him with a fine greyhound. He was charming and affable and was touched by Henry’s intimate attentions. As we broke our fast before the hunt one fine morning, sat upon the earth covered in blankets, he thanked me for the fine presents I had given him.

  “All I do, my lord, is at the command of the King.” I spoke in French, lifted my cup of ale to him and he returned the gesture. “But I am pleased to see my country allied with France, where, as you know, I spent much of my youth. I would be loath to see England aligned with the Emperor Charles, who, as I am sure you understand, often takes as long to keep his promises as he does to wipe his chin.” The ambassador guffawed. Charles V had a famously over-long chin. “The King longs for your master’s friendship. In time, I hope that we will become good friends with our nearest and most sophisticated neighbours of France.”

  Du Bellay eyed me knowingly. “I do not think, my lady, that all you do is at the command of the King. In fact, and I would not wish you to pass this on to His Majesty, I feel that the situation is quite the opposite…” He smiled charmingly. “For a man, so much in love, as Henry of England is, cannot help but give way to his heart in all matters, and that makes you, my lady, the most interesting person I have met here at the English court.”

  “You flatter me, my lord.” I smoothed my low-cut green gown with its long-hanging sleeves embroidered with grapevines. “Perhaps overly. The King has his own will and it is stronger than any I have ever met before.”

  “Which explains why you love him so, Mistress Boleyn,” he said. “There is, in the two of you, a match of equals. And the fire of the English… Ah, it is in both your hearts! We French… we have not the same spirit as the English. They say there is the blood of the dragon in the blood of the King, do they not? You and I must be friends, my lady. We are united in our goal to bring England and France together as the greatest of friends. And my master was keen to hear of you, for he has retained a great affection for you and was most displeased when you left his court. I think he is jealous now to know that his brother king has won your heart, where he failed to do so.”

  “I had no idea that King François ever felt as you say for me.” I laughed lightly. “For he was in love with every woman at court, to varying degrees! But I miss his company also. He is a refined and generous man and he once performed a service for me that I can never repay. I believe, with such a King at the head of France, England would be foolish to look anywhere else for friendship. Please tell him I remember him and his sister with the greatest affection, and I have never forgotten his many kindnesses. I was grieved to hear of Queen Claude’s death, I served her for many years and she was a good woman and the best of Queens. What is your new Queen like? She cannot be happy that you are here, for is she not ki
n to the Emperor?”

  We went on to talk of France and the new Queen. Speaking French to a Frenchman once again was wonderful, for the English could never master the lilt of the language, its beauty and depth. Du Bellay kissed my hand, made many promises and wrote favourable reports to his master. We had an ally.

  It was just as well that my efforts and flattery were gaining us allies, for the King’s Great Matter was dividing the court in two. My family stood now in undisguised opposition to Katherine and her supporters. My brother George, our father, Bryan, Norfolk, and Suffolk were merging together to form a faction, along with men like Cheney and Wallop. Suffolk had no great affection for my family, but had cast his lot in with my uncle Norfolk in order to curry favour with the King. Suffolk also saw this as an opportunity to take down his rival for the King’s affections; Wolsey.

  “That cow-herd has no right to the King’s ear…” Suffolk sniffed. “All of us have suffered from his arrogance and greed. It is time that he left his position and that worthier men took it up.”

  I laughed inwardly at this, for the Duke, noble as he might be now, had hardly always been one of the premier peers of the realm. I could not keep a small smile from my lips, which caused my uncle Norfolk to glare at me. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” I said as Suffolk looked quizzically at me. “I was just thinking of the great pleasure it would give me to see Wolsey replaced by better men, such as yourself and my uncle. The thought was a happy one.” Suffolk grunted, but remained suspicious. I could see George smothering a smile, for he had known what I was thinking.

  “The Staffords, the Nevilles and the Poles will stand with the Queen,” Norfolk said, moving on swiftly and setting everything out like a battle plan, as was his way.

  “And your wife, Your Grace…” I mentioned to my uncle thoughtfully. “She stands with the Queen, also, I believe. That could be embarrassing. Can you not persuade her to act for us instead of Katherine?”

  My uncle coloured, and let out a short moan as he shifted in his chair. My father, who had sat silently listening, started up from his seat. They all stared at me. My uncle was turning various shades of red and purple.

  “The King is most displeased with my aunt of Norfolk,” I said calmly. It did no good for us to avoid the subject, even if it was shameful for my uncle. “He tells me that her attitude towards him borders on the disrespectful. I would not want anyone in this alliance endangered by the behaviour of rogue family members. Perhaps you should talk to her, uncle, before she embarrasses us.”

  “I will do as I see fit with my own wife, niece!” He hissed through gritted teeth. “And I would remind you to have a little humility. You are not the Queen yet, my lady.” The scorn with which he said ‘my lady’ was evident, and I scowled.

  “I shall be, soon enough,” I responded stiffly. “And that is what we are all here to achieve. Remember that, uncle. Once I am married to the King and producing his heirs, the Boleyns, the Howards, the Suffolks and the Bryans will have saved this country from the brink of civil war. We will have a happy King with a brood of part-Howard princes waiting aside the throne. And who but their family and allies will these princes look to for advice and strength?”

  I paused. My uncle was looking at me quite differently now, and nodding in agreement. He went to leave with Suffolk and as he did, he paused near my father. “Your daughter would have made a good general, Thomas,” he said with a scowl. “Let us see if she can make as good a lady… and Queen.”

  Around that time, Henry Norris also threw his lot in with us. A handsome and eager young man with good intentions, Norris was the Groom of the Stool, the man who attended Henry in his most intimate moments upon the privy, and therefore the most important person in Henry’s private household. Norris and George were great friends. George brought him out to meet with me often and as Norris usually accompanied Henry, I came to know him well.

  Norris was a good friend to us, who believed Katherine should obey Henry’s wishes and step aside as Queen. But Norris was not with us on all matters. He liked Wolsey, and sought to try to bring about peace between us. At present, we still needed the Cardinal and so I was happy to tell the eager Norris that I would gladly be friends with those who would be friends to me. This was enough to convince him that I meant the stinking rodent no harm, which was rather far from the truth. But there was something in Norris that made me want him to think the best of me. He had that sense of boyish innocence that I found so appealing in men. Henry was the love of my life, but I could not help but find Norris attractive. He had charm, good looks, and wit. I was drawn to him.

  Since Henry loved Norris too, there was no danger. I flirted with all of Henry’s retainers and then came tripping back to my love’s side. It was the expected behaviour of a lady of the court, and I was to become the greatest of all ladies. I now took Katherine’s place in the game of courtly love. Henry was pleased to see that other men admired me, and even more pleased I was entirely his and out of their reach.

  Poets wrote about me, men sang for me and all the while Henry was at my side, claiming the most wondrous woman of the court as his alone. It tickled him to see so many fall at my feet in rapt admiration; some of it was true, but, of course, much was false. It was, really, all just part of the game we played. We needed the men of England to support us, and it did not matter if that came about through favour, true belief, or flirtation. We would use anything and everything we had and were capable of doing. There came a time, much later, when such innocent games would be used against me… but back then, I thought nothing of it. It was the way I had been taught to play my part at court, and it won us friends. It was nothing more than this.

  There were many in Henry’s intimate circle with whom I was great friends. These men began to treat me in the same manner that the men at the Court of Mechelan had treated Margaret. Despite my frustrations with Campeggio’s slow progress, I found solace in my dancing, prancing admirers.

  Henry was obsessed by the court proceedings that were soon to take place. Headaches plagued him often, and on those occasions he had to retire to a darkened room to quiet the pounding in his head. He never wanted to see me during those times, and I learned not to ask to see him. Although I wanted to care for him, he did not want me to see him during these times of infirmity.

  The business of preparing for the trial took up much of our time. We had less time for hunting, less time for other pleasures. As the handsome young men who surrounded Henry pursued my hand in the dance, and flattered me as we walked out together, there arose a dark hint of jealousy in Henry’s face, mingled with pride that so many should want the woman that was his alone. I liked his jealousy then. It reminded him how valuable I was, and how much he wanted me. It made me feel safe, in a strange way. But there would come a time, much later, when I understood how dangerous jealousy truly was.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Greenwich Palace

  Autumn 1528

  The forests burned with golden and red leaves. Fields, once lush with barley and wheat, were stripped of their crops, leaving behind newly ploughed rich, black earth. The shrieks and hoots of owls were heard in the night’s skies, winging their way to feed on mice, voles and rats with bellies stuffed full of the last fruits of the year. Butterflies sat on stones warming themselves in the sun, disappearing when the long shadows of dusk fell. The wind began to blow fresh and strong, restless amongst the branches of the trees. The common people began to harvest wood from hedgerows to fuel their fires through the winter. Sweet chestnuts dropped, their sticky, spiky husks revealing tasty nuts, good for roasting and making into pottage to warm the belly. The nights stretched, long and cold, and welcoming fires blazed in each fireplace of Henry’s palaces. Court maidens started to whisper how they would discover their future husband on All Soul’s, by placing apple pips by the fire. Each pip held the name of a potential suitor, the first one to pop before the flames would signify whom she would wed.

  I needed no such magic to discover my husband. I had al
ready found whom I was to marry… I just could not marry him, yet.

  Foul weather, a storm which blew in from the coast and ripped through London forced the court inside. For many this was frustrating, being cooped up like rabbits in the warren of the court. For me, time inside meant more time to read, a favourite activity of mine. And that autumn, my brother brought me a book which would steal all my attention, would transport me to new planes of thought, and would linger with me even when I was reading it not. It is like that with some books. They take you from the mundane and open a new world to you. They consume your thoughts, haunt your dreams and become a part of you. It was a book such as this my brother brought me that autumn.

  “This present must be a secret, Anna,” he said as he handed me the small leather-bound volume. “It is already banned in many countries. England included.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  George smiled. “Knowledge and wisdom.”

  “My enigmatic brother…” I said. “I take it this is not a book I should admit owning to Henry, then?”

  “Certainly don’t show it to Wolsey.” George grinned. “The contents are radical, and the Church will view it as dangerous.”

  As it passed into my hands I thought little of it, despite my brother’s dramatic words. George and I often exchanged books that interested us, banned or not. I owned English and French translations of the Bible, which were prohibited in England amongst other writings that spoke of reform. Marguerite had whetted my appetite for the writings of learned men when I had served in France. I thought it dangerous to ignore ideas, whether or not the Church approved. Ignorance is not a helpful state and the gaining of knowledge did not, to me, indicate one was about to sink into heresy. The Church wanted its people to follow its rules, doctrines, laws and regulations, which included not attempting to discover wisdom for themselves. The Church preferred that its priests, monks, bishops and Pope doled out knowledge of the faith in small and often confusing morsels. Many, like me, believed that it was the duty of every Christian to explore the works of the Apostles, Saints, and the Word of God for themselves.