by Alison Weir
Dr. Cruser nodded approvingly, but his expression became serious. “My lady, even with the Queen’s favor, you cannot rely on her supplementing your income on a regular basis. Duke Wilhelm is well aware that your allowance is now seriously insufficient to meet your expenditure—and this kingdom is all but bankrupt.”
“I’m sure the Queen will help me,” Anna protested.
“Has she said she will?”
Anna had to admit that she had not.
“In that case, Madam, I have a strategy you could follow. Parliament met this week, and the first Act it passed was one declaring the marriage of the Queen’s parents lawful.”
Mary must be rejoicing at that, Anna thought.
“Given that, and the favor you have been shown, your Highness might take steps to have your marriage to the late King Henry also declared lawful, so that you can enjoy the lands and prerogatives of a queen dowager. There is no queen dowager now to claim them, nor likely to be for many years.”
Anna stared at him. “But Parliament and Convocation declared my marriage invalid.”
“That hardly matters now. As things stand, the income from your settlement would be forfeited if ever you left England; but your marriage treaty provided that you could keep your lands if you returned to Kleve a widow. Thus, if you could prove your marriage lawful, you would be a wealthy woman, with the respected status of a queen dowager.”
It was a daring and contentious plan—but, given the Queen’s favor, it might just work.
“Would you help me draft a letter to the Council, Dr. Cruser?” Anna asked.
* * *
—
She waited—and waited—for a reply. When it came, she broke the seal eagerly. The Council had received her request, she read, but the matter must be adjourned till later, when more urgent and important affairs had been settled and decided.
At least they had not said no.
According to Sir John, the more urgent matters included the Queen’s marriage. Several prospective bridegrooms had been mooted, including Prince Philip of Spain, the Emperor’s son and heir, who was said to be Mary’s preferred choice. Wilhelm now wrote to Anna proposing another suitor, his brother-in-law Ferdinand of Habsburg, Archduke of Austria, a son of the Emperor’s nephew, Ferdinand, King of the Romans, Bohemia, and Hungary, heir to the Holy Roman Empire. King Ferdinand was eager for the match, Wilhelm declared, and Anna could see at once that the marriage would bolster her position in England.
Dr. Cruser had returned to Kleve, so, at Wilhelm’s behest, she donned her stateliest gown, one of scarlet and cloth of gold, and took herself to Greenwich, where she was readily granted an audience with the Queen.
“My dearest Anna,” Mary said, extending her hand to be kissed, then embracing Anna warmly. She was gorgeously attired and bejeweled, to the point of ostentation, her rich gown swamping her spare frame.
“I trust I find your Majesty in good health and prospering,” Anna said.
“Yes, I am. My cousin the Emperor has sent me a new ambassador, Monsieur Renard, and he is proving an invaluable support.”
Anna wondered if it was appropriate for the Queen of England to rely on a foreign ambassador. Aloud, she said, “I am pleased for your Majesty.”
“I needed someone who has my true interests at heart,” Mary confided. “I cannot rely on my Council. They all supported the usurper Jane. What was I to do? I couldn’t execute them all for treason. So they are sworn to me, and I am watching them, hoping they stay loyal. But what can I do for you, Anna?”
“It is more a case of what I can do for your Majesty.” Anna smiled, encouraged by Mary’s candor. “My brother has proposed the Archduke Ferdinand as an excellent husband for you, and I understand the Archduke himself is greatly desirous of winning your Majesty’s hand.”
To her consternation, Mary looked dismayed.
“I hope you do not think I am interfering,” Anna said hastily.
“No, not at all, dear friend,” Mary said. “The Archduke is eminently suitable, but my heart is set on the Prince of Spain.”
So rumor spoke truth. Mary was keen to marry Philip.
“I have seen his portrait,” the Queen breathed, her eyes lighting up. “He is most…comely.” She reddened. “I feel there can be no other for me. Soon, all will be decided.”
Anna wanted to beg her not to fall in love with a portrait. She herself knew how disastrous that could be. “I pray the Prince lives up to his picture,” she said, knowing she sounded skeptical.
“I am assured it is a wonderful likeness,” Mary said. “Pray tell your brother I appreciate his care for my happiness, and that I would have considered the Archduke, but for the fact that my heart is given elsewhere.”
“I will do that, Madam,” Anna promised, trying not to betray her concern.
“And now,” Mary said, “walk with me awhile in the gallery. I would hear all your news.”
* * *
—
The new year of 1554 came in, and still Anna had heard nothing from the Council. Small wonder really, for the lords had far more pressing matters to occupy them. The Queen’s resolve to marry the Prince of Spain had provoked outrage in England and cost her much of the public acclaim that had greeted her accession. Her subjects did not want a foreign king, still less one who persecuted Protestants; it was held against Philip that he was a champion of the Spanish Inquisition. The mood of the country was angry.
Anna could sense an answering anger in Sir Thomas Cawarden, who had come to Bletchingley for Christmas and stayed on at Hextalls. His resentment was palpable when, as soon as the festive greenery had been taken down, Mary’s officers appeared and demanded, in the Queen’s name, that he surrender his arms and armor for use in the defense of London.
Anna heard the shouting outside, and opened the window to see what was going on. There was Sir Thomas, his breath clouding the freezing air, protesting loudly that he needed his arms, lest the house be attacked. Anna thought of the store of weapons in the barn; there were surely far more than would be needed here!
She worried about the Queen needing arms for the defense of London. Was public feeling against the Spanish marriage so strong that she feared an uprising?
Perhaps Sir Thomas Cawarden, that stout Protestant, was suspected of plotting unrest. She watched as, furious, he stalked off, calling for his men to help deliver the arms the Queen demanded, and disappeared behind the house to the barn.
When she saw the cart loaded, she knew he had handed over only a small part of his arsenal. What game was he playing? Was he planning an insurrection? Or was he determined to retain the rest of the arms for his own defense in the future?
She fretted over the matter, not daring to confide in anyone, not even Otho or Mother Lowe. Mother Lowe was growing old and Anna did not want to trouble her. She thought Otho would press her to warn the Queen of her suspicions. But what if there was an innocent explanation? Relations between her and Sir Thomas were difficult at the best of times; reporting him for stockpiling arms would sour them forever—and she did not want to feel a pariah in her own house. So she held her peace, and tried not to think of what lay in the barn.
In the last week of January, Anna was appalled when Lord William Howard appeared in her hall with a detachment of guards in his wake, and demanded to know where Sir Thomas was.
Flustered, she sent Johann to find him, and a good quarter-hour later, during which Lord William paced impatiently up and down and refused her timid offer of refreshment, Sir Thomas appeared in the doorway.
“Lord William, what do you want?” he barked. “Here I am, enjoying my house in perfect quietness and good order, and in obedience to the Queen—and you come and disturb my peace!”
“Nevertheless, Sir Thomas, you must accompany me,” Lord William insisted. “You are to go before the Star Chamber at Westminster. The Lord Chancel
lor wishes to ask you certain questions.”
Since Gardiner was now Lord Chancellor, Anne imagined that Sir Thomas would have a hard time. She watched as he was taken away, wondering how his poor wife would take this, and whether she should have said anything about the store of arms that remained in the barn. But it was unwise to get involved in these great affairs—and there was no evidence that Sir Thomas intended to use those arms for some nefarious purpose.
He was soon back, and at liberty. “Well, I managed to convince the Council of my loyalty,” he growled, sitting down heavily by the fireside without a by-your-leave, leaving Anna still standing. “They have ordered me to arm my people here and hold myself in readiness to march at an hour’s notice. There is a rebellion in Kent, led by Sir Thomas Wyatt, against the Spanish marriage. The Council is mustering forces to suppress it.”
“A rebellion?” Anna echoed, almost forgetting that Cawarden had referred to his people at Bletchingley, when most were in fact her people. “Kent is not far from here!”
“Don’t look so worried, my lady. It’ll be quickly put down. Even so, the Queen should think twice about pursuing the marriage. This rising is testimony to the strength of feeling against it.”
At least Anna did not have to worry any more about Sir Thomas concealing his arsenal. The Council clearly knew he still had weapons, otherwise they would not have asked him to arm his men. She had been right not to report him.
She wasn’t so sure about that the next day, however, when Lord William Howard appeared again, with Sir Thomas Saunders, the Sheriff of Surrey, in tow, demanding the surrender of all unrequired weapons and armor stored at Bletchingley. She stood by in the hall as Sir Thomas argued with them.
“My lord, my patent as Master of the Revels and Tents permits me to keep forty armed servants here.”
“Yes, Sir Thomas, but you also maintain an armory, as you yourself told us, and we have received information that you have been accumulating weapons to help the rebels.”
“Oh, please!” Cawarden drawled. “Saunders, you know me of old. Would I do such a thing?”
Sir Thomas Saunders stared at him coldly. “The last I heard, Cawarden, was that you were the greatest hot gospeler in Surrey. You are under house arrest, and will remain here at Bletchingley, under my supervision.”
Anna bristled. “Sir Thomas, this is my house, and I do not care to have one who is suspected of colluding with the rebels under my roof.”
Cawarden glared at her, but Saunders bowed. “Madam, forgive me. I will take Sir Thomas to my constituency house in Reigate until he is summoned to London for questioning. Cawarden, make ready! We must not incommode the Lady Anna any longer.”
Sir Thomas was marched out, protesting.
* * *
—
Again, Anna found herself and her household waiting apprehensively for news, which reached them piecemeal from the few carters, pedlars, and merchants who ventured abroad with their wares. Florence of Diaceto returned from a mission he had undertaken for the late King Edward in Denmark, and was able to tell them what he had heard on the way down through Kent.
“The government is obviously frightened,” he said. “Some letters I brought back, and a gold chain the King of Denmark gave me, were impounded by the port officials at Dover.”
The rebel army’s ranks were swelling daily, he reported. It was marching on London. Some said Sir Thomas Wyatt was loyal to the Queen and wanted only to force her to abandon the Spanish marriage. Others were convinced he meant to depose her and set up the Lady Elizabeth in her place, which was treason by anyone’s reasoning. Anna realized, with some dismay, that she did not know Elizabeth well enough to predict whether she would consent to such villainy. When she heard of other risings in different parts of the country, she wondered if they were safe at Bletchingley, but Dartford was in Kent, which ruled it out, and The More too far away; any travel would surely be hazardous.
Cawarden’s valet wrote to say his master had been taken to London for more questioning by the Lord Chancellor. But the rebels had now converged on the capital.
They learned what had happened afterward, from a letter written by one of Sir John’s friends at Whitehall. The Queen, God bless her, had gone to the Guildhall and rallied the people with a rousing speech. Then London had locked its gates to the rebels. Within days, the revolt had collapsed. Wyatt had been captured, and Sir Thomas Cawarden had been ordered by the Council to remain in his own house at Blackfriars.
Anna had been praying daily for the Queen’s deliverance, and now she gave thanks to God for it.
With the roads safe again, Sir John deemed it time to ride to court himself. On his return, he joined Anna, Otho, Jasper, and Mother Lowe for supper. They all pressed him for news.
“The Lady Elizabeth is widely believed to have been involved in the rebellion,” Sir John told them. “I hear she is to be questioned. But the Lady Jane is in greater peril. Her father rose with the rebels in the Midland shires, and proclaimed her the rightful queen. His stupidity is beyond belief. She is already under sentence of death, which the Queen had suspended. But now the Council are urging her to have the Lady Jane executed, for, while she lives, she will always be a figurehead for Protestant malcontents. It is said the Queen is reluctant, for the Lady Jane is but seventeen and had no hand in this latest treason.”
Anna shuddered. Jane had been foolish to accept the crown in the first place, though probably she had had little choice. But to die violently, at such a tender age, was terrible. Her eyes met Otho’s, and she could see he thought the same.
“What did the rebels gain?” Mother Lowe asked. “Nothing but death and misery.”
“Aye,” Sir John said. “There are gallows at every street corner in the City, it seems. You can’t get away from the stench of rotting flesh.”
Anna winced, sickened.
“I think the French were behind it,” Jasper said.
“It’s possible,” agreed Sir John. “King Henri is strongly opposed to the Queen marrying the Prince of Spain. He doesn’t want Philip poised to leap across the Channel from England.”
“Which is precisely why Wyatt rebelled,” Jasper said. “He could see England being dragged into Spain’s wars.”
“I don’t condone rebellion,” Otho put in, “but maybe he had a point.”
“He will lose his head for it,” Sir John muttered, “as will Lady Jane and her father.”
* * *
—
He was right, as he discovered when he was next at court.
“The Lady Jane suffered this morning,” he said gravely, when Anna greeted him on his return.
She crossed herself, imagining how it must have been for that young girl to whom she could not put a face. The news cast a pall over her day, and she sensed a subdued atmosphere in her household.
That evening, she heard the clatter of hooves, and went to the window to see who was approaching. She gasped when she recognized Lord Chancellor Gardiner and her former secretary, now Lord Paget, at the head of a small party of horsemen. What could they want here? Did they not know that Sir Thomas Cawarden was in London? Or maybe he had been released and they thought they might find him at Bletchingley.
She made herself walk slowly into the hall to receive the councillors. This was like the dark days when her marriage was being annulled and she had never known what the next visit from the Privy Council would bring.
“My lords, welcome,” she said, extending her hand, and the lords bowed over it. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Gardiner fixed his eagle eyes on her. “We would like to ask your Highness some questions relating to the late rebellion.”
They wanted information on Cawarden. She swallowed. She must never say she had known about the arms stashed away in the barn.
“I shall be glad to assist in any way I can,” she told them. “Do come
into my parlor, and I will have my servants bring some refreshments.”
They followed her, and she indicated that they should all sit at the table, where wine and little cakes were served within moments. When the door had closed, she waited.
Gardiner broke the silence. “Madam, the Queen has received information that you were privy to the plotting of the rebels, and intrigued with your brother, the Duke of Cleves, and the King of France, to help the Lady Elizabeth gain the throne.”
Anna could not speak. She could see herself being arrested, languishing in the Tower, kneeling before the block…Had she survived her divorce to come to this? The shame, the pain…when she had done nothing!
“You do not say anything in your defense?” Paget asked.
She found her voice. “No, my lord. I am too shocked. I have no need of a defense. That her Majesty should think me capable of this treason is beyond belief. Who is saying these things about me? It is all lies.”
Gardiner was watching her severely. “We shall see,” he said. “In fact, her Majesty is of the opinion that God has miraculously permitted these treasons to come to light, and furnished her with means to put a stop to them by punishing the guilty. Otherwise heresy would have found its way back to the kingdom, while she would have been robbed of her estate and England subjected to the will of the French. So she is absolutely determined to have strict justice done and make herself strong against further eventualities.”
“What treasons?” Anna demanded. “I am guilty of nothing.”
“You are close to the Lady Elizabeth, are you not?”
“I would not say close, not at all. I rarely see her.”
“Yet you are close to Sir Thomas Cawarden.”
She had known from the first that that man was trouble. “He rents one of my houses. He is not supposed to be there when I am in residence, but somehow he contrives to be.”
