Above All Others

by G Lawrence

  There are many who claim Thomas More was a good man of noble virtue. He was nothing of the kind.

  He rapidly extended powers to punish and detain those who dared to read Tyndale or Luther, and leaned on Henry to increase the punishment of heretics. Henry’s belief in this man was misplaced, in my view, and his being Chancellor was going to help neither the people of England, nor our cause, one bit.

  In that Parliament, a bill was brought forth containing forty-four articles of Wolsey’s corruption and treason. The signatories on the bill were all men whom Wolsey had harmed at some stage in his career; my father, Norfolk and Suffolk’s names amongst them, of course. Henry did nothing to stop it, despite his covert support for the Cardinal. Perhaps Henry was truly in two minds about what to do with Wolsey, not knowing whether he was guilty of all that was set against him, or if the charges had been made up or exaggerated by Wolsey’s enemies. Perhaps he also felt as though, having given up everything and gone into exile, Wolsey had suffered enough. But for whatever reason, Henry sat in silence, and allowed them to continue.

  The Cardinal was accused of much ill. He was charged of granting appointments in return for favours, depriving monasteries of free elections and impeding bishops attempting to stamp out heresy. He was accused of embezzling goods, pillaging the wealth of the Church, concluding secret treaties with France and Spain and using the expression “the King and I,” thus showing undue familiarity and lack of respect. The bill said Wolsey treated the King more like a subject than a master and had endangered the King’s health by bringing the pox into his presence, contracted from his mistress. It also censured him for having a mistress and bastard children, thus betraying his vows of chastity and celibacy… The list went on and on.

  Henry said nothing to these charges, but he did not move to help the Cardinal either. Henry remained silent. My father told me however, that Henry’s face had blanched at the idea that Wolsey had the pox, for all knew his hideous fear of sickness.

  The articles were presented to the King, and then sent to the Commons. The bill asked that Wolsey never again be given power or authority in the realm, but Henry did not agree to this. Again, he remained quiet and in that weighted silence there was worry for many, for we knew not what he was thinking. The bill, however, did provide a platform from which Wolsey’s enemies could publicly bring all they had hated about the man to the eyes and ears of England. Wolsey was utterly disgraced, and everyone was now aware not only of their suspicions about him, but of his many true crimes. There were, of course, many false and exaggerated accusations in the bill, too, put there because Wolsey’s enemies did not want this worm to rise into a phoenix from the ashes of his past.

  There was only one man who seemed able and willing to defend Wolsey in his absence, and that was Master Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell was Wolsey’s servant, and a loyal one at that, for at every condemnation and charge given against the Cardinal, Cromwell answered with calm and dignified responses, attempting to clear his master’s name. I wondered if his desire to protect this master was solely for devotion to Wolsey, for when Wolsey fell, Cromwell had been heard to say, “I am like to lose all that I have ever laboured for,” so perhaps some of his defence for his master came from self-interest as well as sympathy.

  Cromwell was an interesting character. There were rumours that he had been a mercenary in the wars in Italy before entering the Cardinal’s household. Cromwell had eyes of warm brown, with flecks of green at their centres and dark hair. He was strongly built, much like Henry, but a slight heaviness lay under his chin, softening the lines of his jaw. He had quick, keen eyes, and, as I was later to find, a fine sense of mirth and humour. His tongue and mind were swift and strong, and he was wry and dry in company. Henry was moved by his defence of his master, as many were, even Wolsey’s enemies, and asked Cromwell to come to court, to see what he might do for him. “For, in showing such loyalty to your old master,” Henry said to Cromwell, “I see in you virtues that I like.”

  Wolsey charged Cromwell to seek the best possible outcome on his behalf, writing to him that he was his only friend left in the world. Wolsey had already attempted to offer bribes in order to be absolved of the charges of treason brought against him, sending my brother a grant of two hundred pounds per year from his revenues at St Alban’s; a vast sum, and one that showed clearly, despite being much reduced, Wolsey was not destitute. And my brother was not the only one Wolsey tried to bribe. Wolsey granted Thomas More a house, which More accepted, despite his protestations about the Cardinal’s corruption… How ironic that More should rail against Wolsey’s avarice and yet take bribes from his hands! Even Thomas Winter, Wolsey’s bastard son, gave up lands and money to buy his father friends and allies.

  Wolsey invited both friends and enemies to dine with him at Esher, including my uncle Norfolk, who refused. Henry continued to offer secret messages of comfort to Wolsey, sending John Russell, my old enemy, with further gifts. I did not hear of this at the time. Henry was careful. He did not want to offend me as he attempted to cling to the Cardinal’s red robes.

  Wolsey, however, was perhaps handing out too much too fast, as he informed Henry that he could not pay his servants, and even lacked normal everyday goods such as linen for his bed and plate from which to eat. Whether this was true or an exaggeration, I was unsure. I suspected that he wanted to play on Henry’s compassion… But it was true his servants were leaving his service in droves. Whether this was due to non-payment of wages, or just that they believed they had a better chance of more gainful employment elsewhere, I know not. His servant George Cavendish was one of the few who did not leave him, but he was one of very few…

  Henry, however, had other thoughts in his mind. Even this brief interlude during which Henry had taken the reins of his country for once into his own hands had shown him that Wolsey had been invaluable. Norfolk was supposed to be Wolsey’s replacement as chief advisor, but he was arrogant, self-motivated, and, compared to Wolsey, a dullard… and Henry knew it. Suffolk, he loved like a brother, but he was no scholar. More he trusted, and appreciated for his intelligence, and yet he knew full well the man was not with him on his Great Matter. My father was keen and clever, but Henry knew that he, too, had much self-interest and would always work for his own best outcome first and foremost. This left Henry with a problem, for who could step into Wolsey’s shoes and do the job as well as he? I, who was most often at Henry’s side, could tell you that despite all his flaws, Wolsey was the most able servant Henry ever had… My enemy, yes… but as the happiness of his fall dissipated, we became aware that we had lost a valuable tool. Henry did not believe in throwing the old tool away. My thought was that we needed to find a new shiny implement to do our work.

  We needed a new man to take Wolsey’s place, and my keen eye was busy searching for the right one.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Greenwich Palace

  Autumn 1529

  With one enemy out of sight, if not out of mind, it seemed that the other was primed and ready to give as much trouble as she could.

  The three of us residing at court was a constant jest, I am sure, to everyone who was not one of us. The King, the Queen and the… other. The courts of other lands rocked with mirth when they thought of all of us holed up together, with me pretending to be Queen, and Henry trying to ignore his present wife. I did not laugh. It was a vastly uncomfortable situation and one that was causing us many problems.

  Where Katherine was, I could not be Queen, so I began to spend a lot of time still at York Place with Henry, poring over our ideas and plans late into the night and talking with his workmen on our expansions and changes. I kept a court all my own, and it was bigger than Katherine’s. We played at bowls in the alleys that Henry constructed. We wagered at cards and on games of tennis in which Henry played against my brother and other men. We danced late into the night, and I put on hunting trips and excursions, always being careful to avoid coming into close contact with the common people who still despised me
. Henry was at my side at all times… when he was not with his wife.

  In public, he still had to maintain his relationship with Katherine in order to pacify the Pope. It was she who presided at court, she who greeted and hosted when ambassadors and dignitaries visited. Henry could not send her away, for he feared what the Emperor, the Pope, and even his own people, might do. We had reached a stalemate. There were no moves either side could make. And so we rubbed together, and became irritated and raw.

  I could only grit my teeth and wait until Henry would visit me, frustrated with Katherine’s martyrdom. She still protested her love for him, invited him to her bed and talked constantly of their daughter and her accomplishments. Katherine made snide comments on my “fabled virginity”, as she called it. She refused to acknowledge me as anything but his mistress, and told him of how so many disapproved of me, his “whore”. It did not matter how many times he protested that we had not slept together, Katherine did not believe it. She did not see how I could have kept him this long if I were not the wild seductress many accused me of being.

  Henry still had men gathering evidence on his Great Matter, and hoped to resolve it in England. Whilst I encouraged this, I was becoming increasingly aware this line of attack was getting us nowhere. We were stuck, in a kind of limbo, with even less hope of achieving our goals than we’d had before. We needed fresh blood and fresh ideas, but for all my searching, I could not see a way to turn.

  Katherine kept up her barrage against Henry. She more often than not got the upper hand in their arguments. I told him to cease arguing with Katherine, for she managed to bring his spirits so low with her continual courage and spirit. Fear was increasing in me that he would cast me off, thinking all this too much trouble. But whilst he assured me this would never happen, he did not listen to me about Katherine. When Katherine started bleating, Henry could not stop himself from shouting back at her. Henry was used to getting his own way. He was used to his being the voice that was heard. His only reaction to being defied was to scream and shout like a spoilt child.

  At times, I despised him. At other times, I pitied and loved him so deeply I thought I might drown in my feelings.

  One day, as she reproached him for unkindness and neglect, he told her that the decision about the legality of their marriage must go in his favour, or he would “denounce the Pope as a heretic and marry whom he pleased.” Katherine went wild, slashing his fragile confidence with her tongue. When he came to me that night, whining that Katherine had crushed his arguments, my temper snapped. I leapt out of my chair, making him stumble backwards.

  “Did I not tell you that whenever you disputed with the Queen she was sure to have the upper hand? I see that some fine morning you will succumb to her reasoning and that you will cast me off! I have been waiting long, and might in the meantime have contracted some advantageous marriage, out of which I might have had issue, which is the greatest consolation to a woman in this world. But no! Farewell to my time and youth spent to no purpose at all!”

  I glowered at his stunned and miserable face. “I shall not see you, for all I can think is that you are planning to leave me, planning to remain in sin with that cold Spanish fish! You will leave me and my reputation spent and sore for your love! You are not true, my lord, you do not love me!”

  I tried to run from the room but he grabbed me roughly, covered my face in kisses and begged me to stay. “It is not true, sweetheart,” he protested. “I will make you my Queen.” He could not bear to see me like this; it hurt his heart.

  I allowed him to comfort me, but I felt like a hare cornered by a hound, unable to find an escape. No matter what Henry said, we were stuck and we had nowhere to go. I could not see how he could make me his Queen… The Pope was no friend to our cause, and Henry was simply not ready to join the movement of reform sweeping over Europe and act as King and Pope in his own Kingdom. I hung in his arms, feeling helpless. But Henry was determined.

  “I will not be told what I can and cannot do,” he muttered over my head as he stroked my hair that night. “I will be King in my own Kingdom, and none shall tell me otherwise!”

  There was something in his tone that I recognised. This cause, his Great Matter, this quest to marry me was not only about his love for me anymore, it was about the question of his kingship altogether.

  His authority as King had been called into question; by Katherine, by the Charles of Spain, by Pope Clement; even by his own people. Although his love for me had sparked these events, it was, by now about much more than the two of us. He did not like being told he could not do as he wished, and he saw it as a direct challenge to his authority; the authority placed upon him by God Himself. If Henry could not act as he wished to, then he was not the King in truth. That notion scared him more than anything else.

  If Henry was not King, then he was nothing. And there was nothing, not even me, not even the prospect of a son, more important to Henry than his God-given position as sovereign.

  He would find a way for us. I comforted myself with the thought. But although I understood his zeal, I found myself uneasy to think that the Great Matter was now less of an issue of love for Henry, but one of pride.

  Chapter Sixty

  Greenwich Palace

  Winter 1529

  In early December, perhaps to appease me following our argument, my father was made twice an Earl. Henry granted him not only the long-coveted Earldom of Ormonde, that very title for which my hand had once been offered, as a bargaining chip, to James Butler for, but also the Earldom of Wiltshire. Thus, my father became one of the premier nobles of the realm, and a very rich man. George, too, was knighted that winter, and in respect of our father’s new titles, he became Lord Rochford, and I became one of four Lady Rochfords, along with my mother, my sister, and Jane. At the same time, George won back his lost position in the Privy Chamber, and became one of Henry’s most intimate companions.

  Henry put on a grand celebration to mark the occasion, inviting all at court to come and rejoice with the Boleyns. Katherine was obviously not invited and did not seek to attend. Before the revelries, Henry presented me with a new gown of purple velvet trimmed with ermine; a colour of cloth and a fur that only royalty may wear by law.

  When I arrived in my stunning gown there were many gasps, but I held my head high and processed with Henry to the head of the table. There was no public sign he could have given that more ably showed his intention to marry me. His will was as strong as ever, and in that show, using but cloth and stitch, I was confirmed as his only true Queen.

  Henry’s sister Mary, and my aunt by marriage, the Duchess of Norfolk, stood open-mouthed and horrified. Both were close to Katherine, despite the Duchess of Norfolk’s connection to my own house. They were disgusted to see me paraded so, not only usurping Katherine’s place, but raised above them in precedence. As the dancing began, Mary caught her brother’s sleeve and I heard her admonish him for his cruelty towards Katherine, and for his faith in me. “You do not see, do you, brother, how she uses you? The people of England are revolted at this behaviour… Do you not see where that goggle-eyed snake and her poisonous family are leading you?”

  Henry scowled at his sister, pulled his coat from her grip and walked away from her without a word. Mary stood staring at him in amazement. He had never treated her thusly before; when she had eloped with Suffolk, he had raged at her. Now, she was met with cold indifference. Later, Suffolk was told angrily by Henry that if he could not restrain his wife and her mouth, she would find herself banished from court. This was highly shameful for Suffolk, as he was part of our faction. But it was even more shameful for, in so many ways, Mary was his superior in station and rank. His wife she might be, but she was also a princess of England and the dowager Queen of France. She outranked him. I doubted that the Duke would to be able to do much to curtail his wife’s behaviour, and Henry was only going to grow angrier at him if he failed.

  Norfolk, too, was having problems with his wife. He had not liked either than
I should take precedence over her at the feast, no matter if I was his niece and would one day be his Queen. He was the highest noble in the land, and to have his wife disgraced brought shame upon him, too. Don’t think that he cared for his Duchess… Oh no… Norfolk and his wife were not on good terms. Norfolk had, a few years previously, moved his mistress into his house and set her above his wife. There were rumours, too, that when the Duchess protested about this “low whore” residing in her own home, Norfolk and his mistress, Bess Holland, had pinned the screaming Duchess to the floor and beaten her. The Duchess had complained of this to any and all she could, but it made no difference. A man was allowed to beat his wife if she did not obey, as she had promised to upon marriage. It was sanctioned by law, and encouraged by the Church. Only extreme cruelty was ever acted upon, and even then it was rare. But even if he hated his wife and thrashed her in private, in public, Norfolk wanted her to be shown the respect to which his position entitled her. It was his own wounded pride which moved him to anger that night, not love, affection or respect for his wife.