As Anne loved Elizabeth…
For Tom
Struck with the
Dart of Love
Je Anne Boleyn
Book 1
Copyright © 2016 Sandra Vasoli
Kindle Edition
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Anne Boleyn illustrated by Dmitry Yakhovsky, based on a
miniature of Anne Boleyn, attributed to John Hoskins.
PREFACE
Anne Boleyn is, without question, a historical character about whom much has been written. The writings have taken many forms over the years: biographies, fictional accounts, narratives, poetry, theatrical productions, Hollywood extravaganzas. Yet there remains something indefinable about her – and, in particular, about the nature of her relationship with Henry VIII - which compels us to delve into the facts we know, and imagine those we don’t, in the ongoing efforts to explore her true nature.
There is just enough extant information about Anne to allow us a tantalizing glimpse into her heart and soul; the missing pieces are equally alluring. Perhaps this is why historians and writers, artists and actors have over the years developed their own representations of Anne and her brilliant, tragic story. I am no different. I have researched, read, dreamed and imagined, and have created an account, as I think Anne herself would have told it, of her tumultuous, passionate love affair with Henry, King of England.
In support of my project, there have been numerous people who have generously offered their time, knowledge and inspiration. I can’t possibly express how grateful I am to all of them. Without them, the outcome would have been impossible. My author-mentor, Mr Brian Callison – a fine writer and even finer gentleman – has provided wisdom, patience, encouragement, and unending skill in helping me hone this product until it seemed ready for delivery. My appreciation for him knows no bounds.
As I conducted the research so critical in seeking answers about Anne and Henry, there have been individuals who took the time and interest to improve my understanding of Tudor history. They include Professor James Carley from York University in Toronto, Canada, with whom I had a dialogue about the spectacular Book of Hours containing inscriptions from both Henry and Anne; Dr Catherine Fletcher, of the University of Sheffield, UK , who enabled my knowledge about the role of spies in the Tudor court (especially with reference to the purloined love letters Henry wrote to Anne), as well as provided education about Henry’s ambassador to Rome, Gregorio Casali ; the assistance of the kind Information Specialists in the Manuscripts Reading Room at the British Library as I studied the famous Book of Hours with Henry’s and Anne’s inscriptions. My thanks must also go to Ms Sophie Clarke, who provided a critical reference to my application for access to the Manuscripts Room – which was an incredibly important experience in making this story come alive. I am indebted to the gracious Ms Anna Spender, Deputy Head Steward at Hever Castle, who organized a private tour for me, and made herself available in later months to continue answering questions I posed. My gratitude extends in no small part to Professor John Immerwahr from Villanova University, Villanova, Pennsylvania, USA, who discussed with me the benefits of viewing original documentation, and provided documentation necessary for my admission to the Biblioteca Apostolica – the Papal Library - at the Vatican. There, with deep thanks to Dr Giuseppe Ciminello, Director of Admissions, and to Dr Paolo Vian, Director, Manuscripts Department, I was privileged to view the original letters which Henry wrote to Anne from approximately 1527 through 1528. This was a truly indescribable experience, and the inspection of Henry’s pen strokes, the way the ink was applied to the pages, gave me a thrilling and unique insight into the nature of their relationship.
As the story took shape, there were friends and supporters who spent time reviewing my manuscript, and I cannot thank them enough. They include Cathy Howell, my dear friend who also accompanied me on the magical mission of viewing the Book of Hours at the British Library; Cathy Giannascoli, whose critique and help with French translations proved invaluable; Maria Maneos, an encourager unlike any other, whose keen reader’s eye was a wonderful gift; Laurie Vasoli, whose feedback made me feel as if I had conveyed Anne’s spirit; and Donna Bolno, whose insightful commentary never fails to bolsters my confidence.
Finally, I am profoundly fortunate to have the advocacy, advice, and love of my husband Tom, and my daughter Stacey. They make the seemingly impossible very possible indeed.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
In order of appearance
Anne Boleyn (c.1501 – 1536): Marquess of Pembroke, Queen of England from 1533 - 1536
Henry VIII (1491 – 1547): King of England from 1509 - 1547
Anne Gainsford Zouche (1495/1500? – 1545?): Anne Boleyn’s lady-in-waiting and companion
Katherine of Aragon (1485 – 1536): first wife of Henry VIII; Queen of England from 1509 - 1533
Thomas Boleyn (c.1477 – 1539): Earl of Wiltshire, Knight of the Garter; father of Anne, Mary and George Boleyn
Marguerite d’Angoulême (1492 – 1549): Princess of France; Queen of Navarre; French mentor to Anne Boleyn
Mary Boleyn/Mary Carey (c.1499 – 1543): sister of Anne Boleyn; mistress to Henry VIII; wife of William Carey
George Boleyn (c.1503 – 1536): 2nd Viscount Rochford; brother and confidante to Anne Boleyn; married to Jane Parker
Henry Percy (1502 – 1537): 6th Earl of Northumberland, Knight of the Garter; in love with and precontracted to Anne Boleyn
Cardinal Thomas Wolsey (1473 – 1530): Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor, and Archbishop of York
Lady Elizabeth Howard, Lady Boleyn (c.1480 – 1538): Countess of Wiltshire; wife of Thomas Boleyn, Earl of Wiltshire; mother of Anne, Mary and George Boleyn; mistress of Hever Manor
Margaret Wyatt, Lady Lee (1506 – 1561): sister of poet Thomas Wyatt; wife of Sir Anthony Lee; friend and lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn
Anne (Nan) Saville – mentioned in primary documents as lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn; very little known of her
Thomas Howard (1473-1554): 3rd Duke of Norfolk, Knight of the Garter; married to Elizabeth Stafford; uncle of Anne Boleyn
Charles Brandon (c.1484 – 1545): 1st Duke of Suffolk, 1st Viscount Lisle, Knight of the Garter; married to Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII
François I (1494 – 1547): monarch of the House of Valois; King of France from 1515 until 1547
Sir Henry Norreys (c.1482–1536): courtier and Groom of the Stool to Henry VIII
Thomas Wyatt (1503 – 1542): courtier, ambassador, poet; introduced the sonnet as a form of English poetry.
Emporer Charles V (1500 – 1558): ruler of Spain; crowned Emperor of Holy Roman Empire by Pope Clement VII in 1530; nephew of Katherine of Aragon
Bess Holland (d. 1548): mistress of Duke of Norfolk from 1526; daughter of Norfolk’s chief steward; maid of honour to Anne Boleyn
Margery Horsman (died c.1547): maid of honor in the household o
f Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, possibly to Jane Seymour as well
Lorenzo Campeggio (1474–1539): an Italian cardinal and statesman; cardinal protector of England; legate assigned to oversee the proposed annulment of the marriage of Henry VIII to Katherine of Aragon
William Sandys (1470 – 1540): 1st Baron Sandys of the Vyne, Knight of the Garter; diplomat; appointed Lord Chamberlain in 1526; a favourite courtier of Henry VIII
Mary Tudor (1516 – 1558): daughter of Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon; Queen of England and Ireland from July 1553 until her death
Francis Bryan (c.1490 – 1550): courtier and diplomat; became Chief Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to Henry VIII; cousin to Anne Boleyn
Henry Fitzroy (1519 – 1536): 1st Duke of Richmond and Somerset, Knight of the Garter; illegitimate son of Henry VIII of England and Elizabeth Blount; married Lady Mary Howard, daughter of Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk
Thomas Cranmer (1489 – 1556): Fellow of Cambridge University; humanist and leader of the Reformation; appointed Archbishop of Canterbury in 1532 by Henry VIII
Thomas Cromwell (c.1485 – 1540): 1st Earl of Essex, Knight of the Garter; advisor to Cardinal Wolsey; member of Henry VIII’s Privy Council and chief minister from 1532 to 1540
Guillaume du Bellay (1491 -1543): Seigneur de Langey; diplomat and ambassador from France under François I
Thomas Cheyne (1485 – 1558): Knight of the Garter; Constable of Queenborough Castle; married to Anne Broughton
Gregorio Casali (c.1500 – 1536): Italian diplomat; Henry VIII’s representative in Rome and at the Vatican
Anne Savage (c.1496 – 1546): Baroness Berkeley; lady-in-waiting and friend of Anne Boleyn; one of the few documented witnesses to the wedding of Anne Bolen and Henry VIII on 25 January 1533
Rowland Lee (c.1487 – 1543): Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield; supporter of Henry VIII’s annulment; possible officiant at the marriage of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn
Greenwich
November 1525
I will admit it to be true.
We galloped full out across the rutted, frozen November fields, foam flying from the horses’ mouths and clods of deep-chilled earth from their hooves. Thundering headlong behind the bellowing hounds I glanced up and became utterly transfixed watching him lead the field. The supple strength of his commanding figure: the ease with which he controlled his huge bay gelding - his image held me captive! I was completely absorbed in the scene played out before me. Too late did I realize I had committed a most flagrant breach of hunt formality. Protocol did not permit me to ride to the head of the field, yet there I found myself, forging towards the front like a novice. And worse - that my mare, unchecked, had run right up on his hunter’s hind end, precipitating an angry backlash from its left rear hoof which narrowly missed my own mount’s head.
Scrambling to a desperate halt, I swiftly became all too aware of where I was, and of what had just happened. With a forcible drag on the reins, he pulled his steaming horse up, and whirled about in annoyance to find us standing there, my horse and me heaving with exertion. I, for my part, wishing I were anywhere else in the kingdom.
We stood together silently, enshrouded in the swirling, cold grey mist, streams of white vapour blowing from the horses’ nostrils. Expressionless, he observed me for a very long moment. Then, though I may well have imagined it, just the very corners of his mouth crinkled upwards, nearly imperceptibly. My breath caught in my throat, and I am certain my heart ceased beating.
God’s blood! What came over me at that moment?
I had scarcely a chance to recover, much less mumble an apology. The intensity of his gaze never wavered. Only at long last did he nod slightly.
“Greetings, Mademoiselle Boleyn.”
Abruptly then, the King reined his horse about, spurred him to a gallop, and followed the master huntsman into the woods.
For the remainder of that long afternoon in the field, my distraction was such that I am not even sure if we brought down the stag we pursued. At last, we clattered back into the stable yard at Greenwich. Never had I been so glad to hand my mare’s reins to the stable boy before running back to my room where I found my chamber mate, Anne Gainsford, curled comfortably by the fire, reading. I pride myself on a cool sense of composure, but as I entered the chamber my breath was quick and shallow, my heart pounded, and my mind was completely flustered. Sinking to a stool, I remained motionless for what must have been minutes. Finally, Anne glanced up from her book and said “Zounds, Anne! Was it that exhausting a hunt? You look as though you’ve been out there for days!”
I didn’t even think to reply, confounded as I was by the extraordinary encounter with the King. Recalling his expression as we stood face to face, I tried most anxiously to interpret it. Surely it must have been one of amused indulgence, like the attitude one would adopt with a precocious child who had overstepped her bounds. But those vivid eyes fixated on mine? What of the fact that I could not draw a single breath while he stared at me? Had he experienced that, too, perchance? Suddenly I wondered how I had appeared to him. Eyes unblinking, wide with surprise? Or, even more awful - might my mouth have been agape?
I then became aware of the many dishevelled strands of hair which had come loose before the whip of the wind and turned to the mirror to remove my riding hat - and promptly burst out laughing. Other than give way to hysterics, there seemed ought else I could do. Attached to my forehead and looking for all the world like a third eye neatly placed above and between my own, clung a huge splat of dried mud.
During the weeks following that unsettling event, I went about my routine, trailing after Queen Katherine, conscientiously fulfilling my duties as a maid of honour in her court. December had brought a hard freeze, and hunting had ceased for the year. The temporary denial of such heady diversion during those dark, chill winter days afforded me ample time to contemplate my situation.
As a daughter and the middle surviving child of a nobleman, holding a position in the Queen’s court was something of which to be proud. My father, Thomas Boleyn, Viscount Rochford, was pleased with the rank he had achieved as well as the places he had secured for me, my younger brother George - also a courtier, and my elder sister Mary. As far as I was able to observe, no one at court worked harder than my father to support, organize, negotiate, and barter on behalf of his sovereign. Still, it was alleged by some, not without an element of jealous spite, that my father had been appointed viscount only because Mary had been mistress to the King for a time. Regardless of whether or not that was true, the family Bullen had most certainly benefited by Father’s elevation to the peerage.
I was exceedingly fortunate in having received an outstanding education in my youth, most especially for a girl. I was sent abroad at twelve years of age and was well schooled in the conventions of the elegant courts of France and the Low Countries. In 1522, when I was twenty-one and of a very marriageable age, I was summoned back to England, and was at intervals present at the English court, or in Kent, at the manor of Hever. Once happily back at home, the only cloud on my horizon was the ongoing negotiation between my father and the Irish Earl of Ormonde to contract a marriage between me and his son, James Butler. Although I had no rights to resist a marriage with Butler, I was not at all enamoured by the prospect. I dreaded the thought of spending my entire life in the backcountry of Ireland, a most desolate place full of bogs, hamlets, and wretched tribes. Furthermore, I resented being used as a prize in a game of familial bartering, but, being a woman, decorum forbade me from having a voice in such matters, so I reluctantly abstained from expressing my opinion.
At this most dreary time of year, the ladies to Queen Katherine were mainly occupied with sewing projects and embroidery, both of which I loathed. To me, there was nothing more deadly boring than sitting by the window stitching mindlessly, feet and hands demurely positioned to steal the warmth from the fire. Of course, the main distraction whil
e doing such mundane needlework was the gossip amongst the ladies in waiting. I listened, certainly, but had my own ideas about how to conduct myself while in the company of the ladies and maids of the court. In the cultured, aristocratic Habsburg Court of Archduchess Margaret of Austria in Brabant, a young lady learned the art of discretion. At court, in and around the thriving cities of Ghent, Bruges, and Brussels, I had been schooled with other children of the great houses of Europe, learning French and the rules of continental behaviour. The Archduchess, a woman of exquisite taste and noble bearing, insisted upon impeccable conduct among the girls who served as her desmoiselles d’honneur. Gossip was not permitted, no more than was loose talk or impulsive action, especially in the presence of gentlemen of the court. Later, when I had been sent to France to serve under Mary Tudor during her brief marriage to King Louis XII, I had continued to mature, to absorb, and become finely attuned to the ways of courtly demeanour.
Above all, I learned early in my tutelage to listen discerningly. During my time at the French court, and to my great good fortune, I had become a protégée of sorts to François’ brilliant sister, Marguerite d’Angoulême. A woman of fiercely independent ideas and the courage and finesse to apply them in the male-dominated political and theological arenas, she took a liking to me and my obvious interest in every aspect of my surroundings, and became my unofficial adviser. Oh, how I looked up to her and wished to mimic her worldliness and poise! She taught me many things, but one concept, especially, proved key to the rest: ‘Savoir, c’est pouvoir’. ‘Knowledge is power’. With a meaningful glance she had the ability to instruct me when to keep my mouth firmly closed and my ears open. I learned by observing her ever so carefully as she sat with her ladies, surrounded by members of the court. I watched her decide when to speak and what, then, to say. I witnessed her covertly but intently regarding others, listening to the idle conversation taking place while feigning absorption in sewing or reading. The habit of actively observing and selectively conversing I quickly adopted when I returned to England as a maid of honour to Queen Katherine of Aragon.
Struck With the Dart of Love Page 1
