Shaking the Throne

by Caroline Angus Baker

  ‘Yes, I too have seen these and they worry me. Now, any man could easily force his sister under my father’s nose for his own ends.’

  ‘You think Edward Seymour has dishonest plans in pushing his sister’s match for His Majesty’s bed?’

  ‘No man could deny the opportunities in pushing forward a sister or daughter.’

  ‘And your father?’

  ‘You know His Majesty as well as any person. One day he can love Queen Anne most heartily, the next be so angry he cannot bear to place his eyes upon her, to hear her tone. His Majesty has been attending parliament with us, has been completing his duties.’

  ‘Secretary Cromwella is as busy as ever,’ Nicòla nodded. ‘From a political point, the King is in fine spirits.’

  ‘His Majesty is tired of Anne. She has not delivered upon the promise of her womb. Father holds me by the shoulders and speaks of how he shall have no sons but I.’

  Nicòla bit her lip for a moment, her eyes straight forward as they walked together. ‘What if the King was to make you his heir?’

  ‘Princess Elizabeth is the heir. There is also Lady Mary, daughter to the mighty Queen Katherine, God rest her immortal soul.’

  ‘Girls.’

  ‘You know how I do not prefer the company of women,’ Fitzroy smiled. ‘But they are daughters by anointed queens. Lady Mary may hate me, for the position of my birth makes us natural enemies…’

  ‘And once, possible spouses.’

  ‘Lady Mary is my half-sister. I had nothing but respect for the Queen Katherine. I respect my father’s decision to marry Queen Anne, and recognise Princess Elizabeth as my half-sister and heir to the throne of my country. I am but a duke. I seek no crown.’

  ‘England could do worse than have you serve as Henry the Ninth. As Machiavelli said, “how laudable it is for a prince to keep good faith and live with integrity”. You could be a great heir for your father.’

  ‘That is treason, Mr. Frescobaldi,’ Fitzroy teased with a wide smile. ‘No, I seek no glory, nor shall I ever be a true prince. My mother may have been mistress to the King for some eight years, but that is all the glory my family needs.’

  ‘Do you see your mother often?’

  ‘Never. She has three healthy children, two boys and a girl by her first marriage. She married again last year, and is expecting again, so she writes. We live fortunate lives, you and I, Mr. Frescobaldi.’

  ‘Indeed, we do.’

  ‘Is Secretary Cromwell with the King at present?’

  ‘Yes, talking of a most serious issue.’

  ‘The passing of the bill worrying the monasteries?’

  ‘No, that is well in hand. It is another matter.’ Nicòla paused for a moment; none walked near the pair in the gardens in the weak sunlight. ‘Cromwella speaks about a proposal to bring His Majesty closer to Rome, to the Emperor and the Pope.’

  ‘But why, when the Reformation is going so well? We are free from the idolatry of Rome.’

  ‘An alliance with the Emperor would bring lasting peace. Yes, Queen Katherine, God rest her soul, is gone from this life, so the Emperor has no need to fight on her behalf. Yet Anne still sits upon the throne. We seek not to end the Reformation; we seek to bring the parties closer to form safety, to prevent fighting amongst ourselves, and if France causes trouble, we will have an ally on our side.’

  ‘But how?’ Fitzroy frowned.

  ‘Ambassador Chapuys, a man you know and trust, thinks it can be done. He and Cromwella have attempted to be friendly of late.’

  ‘And you seek my company to be on your side?’

  ‘No, I only seek your company and friendship,’ Nicòla smiled.

  ‘An invitation to walk and speak is welcomed, for I shall return home tomorrow.’

  ‘St James’ Palace but a mile away,’ Nicòla laughed. ‘You can visit any time, and you attend parliament so very often.’

  ‘Indeed, yet as Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, I am busied of late. Cromwell’s help in the running of the country is much needed, so I shall never be far away.’

  ‘No visit to see your wife? Does she reside at one of your estates?’

  ‘Mary? No, she is currently at Kenninghall. The Duke of Norfolk can tarry with her for a time, though the manner between father and daughter is not a happy state. Mary’s mother, Duchess Elizabeth, is living destitute, and Mary seeks to win favour for her mother. Norfolk’s mistress, Bess Holland, is of course still attending upon Queen Anne, so Mary hopes her mother can return to Kenninghall as the rightful Duchess.’

  ‘I find that unlikely, for Norfolk is never a man to back down on any matter,’ Nicòla scoffed. ‘If he wants his mistress at Kenninghall, not his wife, then that shall be.’

  ‘Quite true. I have written not to Mary; I heard all this from her brother.’

  ‘How is the Earl of Surrey?’ Nicòla asked with raised eyebrows. All knew Fitzroy’s relationship with Henry Howard to be the important one in his life, not that of his sister.

  ‘Surrey does quite well, working on his poetry as always. He and Sir Thomas Wyatt have been working together of late. Surrey has done his duty by his wife and Frances gave birth to a son not one week ago. Baby Thomas shall be the Duke of Norfolk after his father passes.’

  ‘Henry Howard has a son, a grandson for the old Duke?’

  ‘Surrey is best pleased. He and Frances have had a strained marriage, but they are settling into their lives.’

  ‘And you and Surrey?’

  ‘We shall always be the closest of allies,’ Fitzroy grinned at the mere mention of his special friend.

  Footsteps behind the pair caused them to turn, to see one of the Cromwell Chambers gentleman-ushers there.

  ‘I see time for pleasure is over,’ Fitzroy said and placed a large hand on Nicòla’s shoulder. ‘I dare say we will meet soon when Cromwell’s new bill is passed.’

  When Nicòla entered Cromwell’s private office, he was pacing slowly around the Turkish carpet on the floor. Nicòla closed the door and folded her arms over her doublet.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Cromwell asked, still pacing.

  ‘I took a turn in the garden with the Duke of Richmond. He prepares to leave for St James’ Palace.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he is worried over his father’s health since Queen Anne’s miscarriage.’

  ‘We should be worried. Word of the miscarriage shall have raced across Europe now. I put to the King that we should favour an alliance with the Emperor and Pope,’ Cromwell continued and rubbed his chin. ‘His Majesty sees the benefits and feels the ills of the past all too keenly.’

  ‘We all do,’ Nicòla shrugged.

  ‘If the Emperor wants peace with England, we must make it so.’

  ‘We serve the King, not the Emperor. We must do what is right for England,’ Nicòla warned.

  ‘Would it not be good if we could serve England and get your divorce signed by the Pope?’

  ‘I have been married six years, Tomassito; we can live happily without a divorce. Do not pressure the King into an alliance with his former enemy to serve my needs.’

  ‘What good is power if you cannot serve yourself?’

  ‘Fitzroy tells me that Henry sent a gift of love letters and gold coins to Lady Jane Seymour.’

  ‘Yes, and when I went into the privy chamber, that gift was returned. Jane sent it back as a signal of her virtue. It only served to make Henry like her more.’

  ‘Should we be worried?’

  ‘My queen is on the throne. I defeated Queen Katherine to get Anne on the throne and us into power. Now Edward Seymour seeks to supplant Anne with his boring sister. Sir Nicholas Carew is coaching Jane to be a better mistress.’

  ‘What an awful thought,’ Nicòla shivered.

  ‘Henry is tired with Anne, and a docile, chaste blonde is being waved under Henry’s pitying nose.’

  ‘If he wishes to stop the pity, he should align with the Emperor. Or soon enough the Marquess of Exeter will seek to take Henr
y’s throne. Courtney is Henry’s cousin and would be next to claim.’

  ‘I would see Fitzroy on the throne before the Courtneys,’ Cromwell scoffed.

  ‘What is made can be unmade.’

  ‘I know this. I made Queen Anne, only I shall unmake her.’

  ‘Do you want to play Queenmaker again?’

  Cromwell threw his hands in the air, the black sleeves on his coat billowing. The pacing increased in speed. ‘Chapuys has been in my ear. Talking about new brides for Henry. French brides! No, I shall never make a French princess.’

  ‘It is for Henry to decide.’

  ‘Jane Seymour is for the old faith, the old ways and thinking. We do not wish to have her on the throne.’

  ‘Jane Seymour is dim-witted. Pretty, charming, but boring. She would not cause you trouble and her family could be easily bought. Rome would love Lady Jane, a Catholic.’

  ‘Are we truly discussing the downfall of Anne Boleyn?’ Cromwell frowned to his secretary. ‘The way in which Henry loves Anne…’

  Nicòla waited for Cromwell to continue, but he said nothing. She held out her hands to prompt him.

  ‘Only my love for you surpasses Henry’s love for Anne.’

  ‘That is fine for the purposes of courtly love notes, but love does not speed this country’s reformation.’

  ‘But England needs an heir.’

  ‘Changing wives and wombs did Henry no favours before, so why now?’ Nicòla asked.

  ‘We are to parliament in a week, so let us see that through, no more talk of replacing the Queen. I have no reason to unmake Anne, no matter her failure in the childbirth bed.’

  Nicòla nodded as Cromwell finally sat down at his desk. ‘Can a marriage survive such heartbreak?’

  ‘Ours has.’

  ‘Our illegitimate marriage,’ she sighed.

  ‘We should worry about saving Henry’s marriage to Anne, not worry about a younger blonde taking her place.’

  F

  Chapter 35 – April 1536

  everyone drinks sweet lyes, but only sip bitter trouths

  Whitehall Palace, London

  ‘The dissolution of the monasteries will be the biggest challenge we face,’ Chapuys said as he leaned back in the chair across from Cromwell at his desk.

  ‘The bill passed some two months past,’ Cromwell replied. ‘I shall not relent in reforming the monasteries.’

  Cromwell flicked a quick glance at Nicòla as he spoke. The meetings with Chapuys became more common these past weeks, as keen for an Anglo-Imperial alliance as Cromwell. But by Cromwell’s own admission, he was on his own; the King had no idea of how Cromwell planned to reach to gain an alliance without any royal order. The situation found itself where enemies could be friends – Chapuys, once ousted from Cromwell’s company, now visited almost daily. All these years, and yet Chapuys still had not come face to face with Queen Anne. If Chapuys had his way, the concubine would be out, with a French princess in her place.

  Chapuys noticed the gentle look between Cromwell and Nicòla, and turned in his chair, to where Nicòla sat perched at her own desk. Chapuys knew, all of Europe knew, the Duke of Florence wanted an annulment to marry the Emperor’s daughter. Only a few knew the Duchess of Florence sat in Cromwell’s office, and Chapuys was one of them.

  Chapuys turned back to Cromwell. ‘The Emperor shall be happy to make peace with England after many years of disquiet, yet there are conditions that must be met.’

  ‘Indeed, I am sure the Emperor will want England’s support against the French in the war over Milan,’ Cromwell replied and leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the desk. ‘And if war breaks out between the Empire and Ferdinand of Hungary, England shall be expected to rally, no?’

  ‘Ferdinand may be Charles’ brother, but yes, support shall be needed, as the French are no allies,’ Chapuys sighed. ‘And that does not begin to cover the threat from the Turks.’

  ‘The Emperor needs England,’ Cromwell said with a smug grin.

  ‘But the Emperor will not favour England until King Henry makes peace with the Pope. Emperor Charles can only do so much to smooth the way with the Pope, but it is your king who must relent for this plan to work.’

  ‘What are the Emperor’s final terms?’ Cromwell asked, and clicked his fingers twice for Nicòla to make notes, which she readied out of his line of sight.

  ‘Henry must acknowledge the supremacy of the Catholic faith and that the Pope is the sole head of the Church,’ Chapuys said. ‘The Lady Mary, Princess Mary, must be returned to the line of succession. While the Queen Katherine is no more, the Emperor wishes to see his cousin Mary treated well by her father.’

  ‘And of Queen Anne?’ Cromwell enquired.

  ‘Charles is happy for Anne to remain on the throne. If Anne is married to Henry, then Henry is off the marriage market and less likely to make an alliance with France.’

  ‘Do you favour an alliance with France?’ Cromwell interrogated Chapuys.

  ‘I must serve my master first.’

  ‘I have written to Bishop Gardiner many times, who remains in France, and there is no love for Henry there. A French princess on the English throne would be unlikely,’ Cromwell replied. ‘So, the Emperor will allow Anne on the throne?’

  ‘I think all of Europe would like to see the great whore step aside, but for now, the Emperor shall relent.’

  ‘If Anne were to step down as queen, she would still be the Marquess of Pembroke and remain hither at court, and so would her base,’ Nicòla interrupted. ‘I have gone over the laws many times, and even divorce would not relieve us of Anne.’

  Chapuys acknowledged her words with a gentle nod and turned back to Cromwell. ‘If we write out a formal agreement, we can begin talks with the King.’

  Nicòla sat at her desk as Cromwell walked out of the office with Chapuys and she glanced down at the small chest beside her. With the top open, inside the red and white ivory chess set gleamed; it had belonged to Queen Katherine. Henry did not want it, and yet did not offer it to Anne, as if she were not worthy of any more of Katherine’s possessions. Nicòla desperately wished to send it to the Lady Mary, to have something of her mother’s. Letters between Cromwell’s office and Lady Mary were constant, and Nicòla could not bear to see the young woman so mistreated. Queen Anne would be livid if she knew.

  Cromwell returned to this office and did not close the double doors. He stood with his hands on his hips and Nicòla rose for her next instruction.

  ‘A messenger just spoke to me of George Boleyn, who is in dark spirits,’ Cromwell said. ‘He was heard muttering that he believes Henry is God’s enemy.’

  ‘That sounds most treasonous,’ Nicòla frowned, and Cromwell nodded.

  A bang of the main doors to the Cromwell Chambers heralded muffled voices and pounding footsteps. Cromwell took a few steps backwards to look through the doors, and his face went pale.

  ‘What?’ Nicòla asked.

  ‘I demand to see Cremwell alone!’ came the voice of Queen Anne from the antechamber.

  Cromwell rushed forward and pushed Nicòla low. ‘Get under the desk,’ he hissed.

  ‘What?’ Nicòla whispered back, and Cromwell pulled away her stool. He pushed her into the space under the desk and covered her mostly with the stool and the chest filled with the chess set.

  As Cromwell rose to his feet, Anne slid into the room, gentleman-ushers closing the doors behind her. She stood tall in a golden gown, her hair pulled back tightly, her black eyes wide and angry.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Cromwell said and bowed deeply. ‘How may I serve you?’

  ‘I thought us friends, Cremwell,’ Anne said as she moved her eyes over his desk. ‘I saw you as the path to making me a queen. I know many call you the Queenmaker as if it were you who decides who the King marries, as if I play no real role, simply a toy.’

  ‘I do not believe that to be true, Your Majesty. Had His Majesty loved any other, he would never have broken the Church to wed them. You a
re the only woman he truly loved.’

  ‘Loved? As if he does not love me now?’ Anne spat back. ‘You think I do not hear the rumours that Henry talks with my own lady-in-waiting, Lady Jane Seymour? That he writes to her, sends her gifts? Or you think I do not hear the talk, that I am merely a grieving woman, in need of entertainment? But I come neither to discuss you making queens, or the Seymour girl, Cremwell. I want to discuss the dissolution of the monasteries.’

  ‘Oh,’ Cromwell paused. ‘As you wish, for Your Majesty may know all.’

  ‘People talk of me fighting with my Henry. They talk of my grieving as if nothing is sacred. They talk of a new woman in my husband’s life, and as all this entertains many, I wish to know more of the torture you seek to unleash on England.’

  ‘What do you wish to understand, Your Majesty?’

  Anne continued to walk about the room and Nicòla prayed she did not wander close enough to see her bundled under the wide desk. Nicòla watched the hem of Anne’s golden gown ambling about the room.

  ‘There be 850 monasteries in this country, Master Cremwell,’ Anne said, not referring to him as Secretary, ‘and you shall close 560 of these lesser monasteries, is that right?’

  ‘Her Majesty understands well. All have been inspected and found unfit for representing the Church. Some are in disarray, some are crumbling, and some are heavily in debt.’

  ‘And yet they shall be emptied out of all the people and their possessions, and their lands and wealth shall go to the King.’

  ‘Indeed, Your Majesty, as the King wishes.’

  ‘Would that money not be better spent? For indeed, monasteries teach children, they take in the sick and they feed the poor. Monks give treatment to the people of England, who have no other access to help. Monasteries help every community, from nourishing bellies and souls, healing the ill, taking in travellers. All this shall be gone, and nothing shall take their place?’

  ‘I intend to look at new measures…’ Cromwell began.

  ‘You do no such thing,’ Anne hissed at him. ‘You shall set up the Court of Augmentations to move religious revenues to Henry, and it will sit in His Majesty’s Exchequer, or it shall serve as bribes. Buildings will be destroyed or given away to wealthy men. I hear, of the 560 monasteries caught in this initial clutch of greed, that 123 are already sold, as the new owners bribe you directly!’