Owaine quickly joined us and found a young man who was prepared to sell us three horses, the last three horses in Dover if he was to be believed. I could see that Owaine was nervous about leaving the rest of my guard but did not say anything to me about staying behind. Within the hour we were saddled and preparing to travel to London. From the gates of the city I could see the hill to the right where a scant dozen men were digging mass graves for what little remained of the citizens of Dover.
“Which way should we travel?” Norfolk asked, riding up beside me. Looking at the wasteland before me, I sighed.
“We follow the trail of destruction.”
***
We reached London in two days. I ached in every bone of my body and the small stallion I rode was close to foaming at the mouth, a sure sign it had been pushed too hard. We had seen nothing but ashes during our travels; we were forced to sleep on hard ground still warm from the recent flames. The Spanish had left nothing in their march toward London.
It wasn’t until we were a mile south of London that the scenery changed. The burning fields and trampled ground suddenly went to the East. The small road that led to the heart of London was untouched and we could see our first sign of survivors in two days.
“They must have planned an attack on the Tower,” Norfolk said as we rode through a small hamlet on our way into the city. But no faces peeked out from behind closed shutters; no one called down to us, even though I was easy to recognize.
“North of the city would have provided a better battleground,” Owaine agreed, his voice hard and flat.
We rode into the city, which greeted us with silence. I had never known London to be silent, as the Thames flowed unencumbered by boats and streets lined with closed shutters hid the city’s inhabitants from the world.
“Who should we look for?” Norfolk asked. I looked around as we rode down the streets. There seemed to be no one to ask.
I looked about as we reached a common square, devoid of human life. A small number of sheep continued to graze, however, and this gave me hope.
“To the Tower,” I ordered. “Someone must be left to tell us what happened here.”
The two men fell in behind me, Owaine’s hand resting on his sword. It quickly became evident that the homes were closed, not because people were afraid but because they no longer inhabited London.
“By God,” Norfolk swore behind me. “Did Cromwell evacuate the whole of London?”
“That is how it seems,” I responded. Though my voice did not betray me, I was most impressed. Evacuating the city’s 50,000 inhabitants would not have been easy and I was curious as to where they would have been sent. Some of the men might have chosen to fight alongside the meager forces we had left behind in England, but even the women and children were gone – an unprecedented move.
We heard the Tower of London before we reached it. Even from a distance I could see the activity upon the walls, as one of the tallest buildings in the city, it was visible over the rooftops. Men patrolled the walls, but I could see women on the walls, too, and even a small child peered around a guard.
As the only men in the streets we were spotted quickly. I could hear the men calling for positions, the women suddenly out of view. Owaine, alarmed at the citizens’ reactions, road out ahead of me, calling out, “The King! It is the King!”
I could tell at once when he was heard, as an excited yell gave way and the gate at the end of the road began to crank open. Obviously relieved, Owaine waited patiently for the duke and I to catch up with him before easily falling back into place behind me.
The courtyard was overrun with people. Even with the mass of people pressing against one another to see me, I knew this was not the whole of London – perhaps only ten percent of the population, maybe less. I still wondered where the rest of the people had gone, when a door was thrown open and a man appeared at the top of the steps.
“The king!” a servant called out as the man approached and I was momentarily confused—was he announcing my presence, or had this man been sent by Emperor Charles to take charge of my country and styled himself as king already? But when he reached my horse, the fat man with dark eyes threw himself at my feet. I looked at Norfolk, bewildered by who this man might be.
It took some slight prompting from the duke, but finally the servant announced the man who had flung himself into my presence.
“Sir Martin Bowes!” the young boy cried, his face flaming. “Sir Martin Bowes—the Sheriff of London!”
“Your Majesty!” Martin Bowes cried, his face still in the mud at the hooves of my horse.
“Rise!” I ordered when it became clear that Bowes would have remained in that position for the rest of eternity. He did so quickly, still averting his eyes as a servant awkwardly helped me down from my saddle. As I landed I could feel the wound in my thigh ache and knew that a doctor would have to be sent for soon. Biting the inside of my cheek to ward off the dizziness that accompanied the pain, I nodded to Norfolk.
“Sir Bowes,” he said with authority. “Perhaps we can retire to his majesty’s – to your – to appropriate chambers to discuss what has happened here.”
“Oh yes, of course, forgive me,” Bowes said, bowing again. He waved a servant on ahead of us.
“Please follow me.”
We did our best, but a week in a saddle, followed by a rough crossing and another two days chasing the Spanish army’s destruction had taken its toll on me. Norfolk was paler than I had ever seen him and even young Owaine seemed exhausted. I limped toward the door, both men behind me, trying my best to keep up with Bowes’ frantic pace.
“In here, Your Majesty,” he said, leading me into what would have been my outer chambers had I been residing in my royal rooms at the Tower. I had only used them sparingly, having never liked the sinister feel of the place, but they still remained empty and ready for my use at any time.
“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” Bowes said. “But we have been using your Majesty’s outer chambers as a place to hold our council of war meetings.”
I collapsed into a large chair and gestured for a servant to bring me a glass of ale from where the pitcher sat along a side board. Norfolk and Owaine both followed suit and I frowned at Bowes’ implication that he was a part of this council of war.
“Quickly, man,” Norfolk said as a mug of ale was placed in front of me. “What has happened here?”
“They have been defeated!” Bowes exclaimed, a large smile overtaking his round face.
“Who has been defeated?” I demanded before gulping down the glass of ale.
“The Spanish, Your Majesty!”
I lowered the mug and glanced to Norfolk, who stared at the man aghast.
“We were informed that the Spanish had a great army,” he said finally.
“Yes, at least twenty thousand men,” Bowes said. “And us here with only six thousand archers and four thousand infantry. But the citizens of London, after hearing of the destruction in Dover and the countryside, rallied here to the Tower and made a stand. With their numbers, we were able to defeat the Spanish.” He nodded to the window behind me. Carefully I stood and limped to the window.
Looking down onto the open field I could see the bodies. Though it was evident the battle had happened some time ago, the Spanish bodies still littered the field, their broken standard still waving in the wind.
“We are trying to remove the bodies,” Bowes explained. “But we thought it best to make sure that the Emperor had fled all the way to his ship.”
“The Emperor was here?” Norfolk demanded.
“Yes,” Bowes said. “Leading his armies personally. We had hoped to capture him, but after the battle he evaded the small number of horsemen we sent out and escaped back to the coast. But we do not think they caused much destruction along their way, believing themselves to be followed by a great number of men!” Bowes laughed as I turned away from the window, back to this short, heavyset man.
“The men rallied around the Tower?�
� Norfolk asked, his voice still bewildered. “I have never heard of the merchants falling out to defend the city, not even during the Cousins’ War. What would drive them to do such a thing?”
Bowes eyed Norfolk warily but did not answer, the smile slipping from his face. I stomped back over to the table and placed both my hands onto the heavy wooden surface, trying to make sense of what I was being told. From the losses outside and Bowes’ report, over half of the Spanish army must have been struck down by our longbowmen who sat in the Tower. Evidence of hot tar being used as a weapon and even cannon fodder, seemed to have taken out another thousand men. The men had fought, better than I could have imagined Londoners to fight. Finally, I glanced back up at Bowes.
“But who led the men?” I asked, breathless. “Surely it was not you.”
A small smile overtook Bowes face as he shook his head at me.
“Your Majesty, it was the Queen.”
Chapter Twelve
August, 1541
It took two weeks for Anne to return to the Tower. After Emperor Charles had fled, she had ridden with the few cavalry all the way to Portsmouth where Charles had a ship waiting to carry him away if necessary. She had remained in that town for three days as ships patrolled the area to try to find the Emperor, but he was safely away by then.
She sent word to me immediately that she was in good health and that she would return as soon as she was able – but she wanted to ride first to Oxford, where my daughters had gone with Bishop Gardiner and Archbishop Cranmer. I wrote back that this was acceptable, and settled into the Tower.
Prince Edward had remained ensconced at Richmond Palace, but I worried about his guard. Though Anne had doubled the men protecting him, it was a well-known fact that his residence was there. As I began to reconsider where to send him, I realized with a start that I should ask Anne’s advice on the matter.
The heat wave had finally been broken by a light rain that put out the last of the fires the Spanish army had set. Cromwell returned after the rains, having ridden down to Dover to see what survivors remained and to consider what fortifications would be needed there, now that the city was in ruins. I cursed the foolish man, who had taken a circular route down and therefore passed all of the destruction caused in the countryside. Another group of men had since been dispatched to determine what could be done for those farmers.
Instead of hiding away when Anne arrived, I forced myself out of my chair and down to the steps by the stables. Shortly after arriving at the Tower, the wound on my thigh had gotten so bad that I was confined to bed. Doctor Butts had been called in from where he had been with Prince Edward and had opened the wound, draining the pus from it. Though the experience was excruciating, I could now walk and should be able to ride within another week.
As the gate was slowly opened and twenty-five horsemen rode into the yard, I squinted to determine which one was Anne. After a moment I realized she was the one in the front, and only as she pulled up could I see she rode with her dress covering her legs, her top hat not part of a neat riding outfit but part the same traveling clothes as the rest of her companions.
I waited for her to dismount, impressed. She had as much command of her horse as any cavalry officer, and as she turned towards me, called a good-natured good-bye to her companions over her shoulder.
“Your Majesty!” she said with obvious pleasure, kneeling before me on the steps.
I motioned for her to rise, and as she did so I took her in. Her German dresses had been ill-fitting and the English ones made for her were contrived, but she now looked stunning in simple riding gear. She smiled up at me, and I could see that her complexion had cleared up, while a steady heat rose on her cheeks from the wind and riding. A trim figure, she would now rival any woman at court.
“We have much to speak of,” I said, smiling at her and motioning for her to walk with me. She quickly came up beside me, taking my arm, allowing me to lean some of my weight onto her as we made our way to my chambers for our dinner.
“I hope you are pleased with the meal,” I said after a moment. “The provisions here are stretched thin.”
“I will be pleased with whatever your Majesty has to offer me,” Anne said sweetly. “I see many of the Londoners have returned to their homes. I do not believe we will be overly pressed for long.”
“Indeed not,” I responded. “And yes, the city is returning to some amount of normal trade. It is commendable to you that almost the entire population of London survived the attack.”
Anne smiled the same broad smile she always had, but this time I could appreciate the pleasure that she took from my praise.
“I only wish to be a help to Your Majesty,” she said.
“You have been most definitely that,” I assured her as we arrived at my outer chambers. The tables were loaded with a variety of fish plates. Though beef was hard to come by, Cromwell had managed to bring back a shipment of fish from his trip to Dover.
I led Anne to her seat by my right hand before taking my own large chair. She waited patiently while a page appeared to load the fish onto her plate, as I gulped down a large portion of ale. I allowed her a few moments to eat before continuing.
“I wish to know how you rallied the troops,” I said gently. The illness brought on by the wound in my thigh had left little time for a full explanation from anyone during the first few weeks of my arrival, and then my advisors had all been scattered about England in relief efforts.
“When word was sent about the Spanish army off the coast, I knew we did not have much time,” she began. “Lord Cromwell and I agreed that it would be best to evacuate London. I believed the enemy would land in Dover and march up the coast, so I ordered that most of the Londoners would travel west. Those who could escaped with carts and horses; I arranged for local leaders to commandeer what was needed. I also had all the royal barges emptied and loaded with as many passengers as possible. And I sent the Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth away immediately.”
“And you did not think to travel with them?” I asked.
“I did not wish to leave London,” she replied simply. “Although Lord Cromwell was most displeased with my position, I know that I am not as vital to the crown as your daughters. And after Bishop Gardiner and Archbishop Cranmer left, I knew there would be no one for the troops to see as a leader. The Earl of Hertford was called down from the northern borders, but he would not be here in time to call the men of London to arms.
“I must beg your Majesty’s pardon, but I sent a page for some of your own armor. I had none myself, and knew that I must look ready for battle, even if I was not.”
What little Mayor Bowes had told me had included the awe-inspiring sight of his queen donning an old suit of armor, one that had long since been too small to be used by me. He had provided me with much of the speech she gave at the gates of London, to the men who were preparing to flee the city. Remembering how she looked on that night so many years ago, speaking passionately for England, I could see why many of the men and even some of the women turned around and stayed in the Tower to fight.
“I regret to tell your Majesty that I was most afraid for the three nights before the Earl joined us. I was afraid that the Spanish would attack and there would be no one but me to lead. But fortunately the Earl arrived just days before the Spanish did and was able to assist me.”
I knew that Anne had still led most of the army, had even gone as far as to watch the battle and help Edward Seymour, now the heroic Earl of Hartford, direct the tide.
“But sweetheart,” I said, leaning forward to capture her hands as another plate of food was brought before us. “How did you even know what to do?”
“I had heard of queens leading battles before,” she said softly. I thought back to my first queen, Catherine, who had led an army north to fight the Scots. And her mother, Isabella, had been said to lead men into battle, riding sidesaddle, even while with child.
“Yes, my dear, they have,” I answered. “But never with as much bravery as
you.”
***
Within only a few days my advisors had returned and we planned a council of war. Naturally the Earl of Hertford, my dull-faced brother-in-law Edward Seymour, was present, as was the Duke of Norfolk and Lord Cromwell. Though Cranmer and Gardiner had returned, I did not call them into the meeting.
And sitting, quite demurely to my right, was Anne. I had already been considering adding her to the meeting when Edward Seymour all but demanded I do so. He had been amazed at how clearly she could see a battle, and how quickly she had found the right words to bolster the men. I agreed that, while young, Anne would be a most valuable asset.
“Your Majesty,” Cromwell began. “I have it on the best authority that the Spanish have sailed past Brittany. They will not return to England this year.”
“I still find it hard to believe that they would turn tail so easily,” the Duke of Norfolk argued. “It seems more likely that they would take refuge in France and plan to strike here in England again.”
“Their numbers are too few,” Edward Seymour responded promptly. “They will not risk another assault.”
“They had great success here,” Norfolk snapped back. “They burned a trail of destruction from here to Dover!”
“Until they reached London,” Edward said, exasperation creeping into his voice. “Until they ran into our greatest city and the army that protected her. And until they met our queen.”
Here Edward smiled at Anne, who shyly returned the gesture. I could picture Charles and the easy smiles he had offered Anne while at the court, encouraging her and patiently teaching her the ways of England. Though I felt a great debt of gratitude to Anne, I still had trouble understanding the hold she had over these courtiers, men who like Charles Brandon could hardly be trusted not to bed a woman and even men like Edward Seymour, who prided themselves on manners and the traditions of the court. She had seemed to so easily capture every man’s heart but my own.
And, of course, the Duke of Norfolk’s.
“The Spanish will not be scared off by the presence of a queen!” he snapped, smacking the table with his hand.
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