by Anne Stevens
“Then it is my duty to tell him,” Suffolk says in as dignified a manner as he can muster. “He is with the Warden now, but we can speak with him after dinner tonight.”
“We, sir?” Cromwell does not like the sound of this, and would rather keep his distance, until Henry wishes to involve him.
“You need only be there, by my side,” Suffolk explains. “ I will simply mention that I have heard this rumour, but doubt its veracity. Henry will wish the story to be looked into, and dismissed.”
“And my part, Lord Suffolk?”
“Can you not remind him that Will Draper is his Special Examiner?” Suffolk asks.
“A stroke of genius, sir!” Cromwell slaps the palm of his hand to his forehead. “Why did I not think of that?”
“I have a certain talent for these things,” Charles Brandon says. “The man is a close personal friend of mine, and will investigate. Once the truth is known, Lady Anne Boleyn can kiss our arses.”
“My Lord!” Thomas Cromwell expresses proper indignation. “Let us not allow this to become personal. After all, it will mean the ruin of the Boleyn family, and the end of Lady Anne’s dreams of being Queen of England. Why, it will take all of my skill as a diplomat to keep poor George alive.”
“Let the dog die.”
“Ah, then Lady Jane Rochford will be a widow, and in need of a new husband,” Cromwell replies. “Very cunning of you, sir.”
“No! I did not think,” Suffolk says hurriedly. “Do not let the poor woman suffer the indignity. Let us just remove the Boleyns and be damned to it. Will you stand by me, Master Cromwell?”
“With all my heart, sir,” the Privy Councillor says. By evening, he sees that his plan will have worked, and Henry must seek a different wife. He thinks of the nice German girl he has heard about, and wonders how soon he can have her come to London.
The great hall of the Warden’s Tower in Calais is not as grand as those in Whitehall or Westminster, and the four hundred guests are cramped into their places. The food is, however, of an excellent standard, as Thomas Cromwell has brought over his own kitchen staff for the great pre Christmas banquet.
Course follows course, and the king delights in eating his way through a splendid array of jellied eels, roast pigeons, stuffed with truffles, steaming ribs of beef, an array of cheese and fruit flans, and six whole roasted swans. Cromwell notes which courses the king likes most, and resolves to have them served again at the New Year’s feast at the start of 1533.
It is not until the tumblers and jugglers have finally exhausted themselves that Charles Brandon catches Cromwell’s eye, and beckons him over. He nods and smiles his way through he diners, until he is halted in his tracks by an excited little man in a remarkable feathered hat.
“Thomas… there you are,“ Chapuys says. “I am stuffed. Have we to thank you for this wonderful meal?“
“I had a hand, Eustace,“ Cromwell says. “Now, I must go to Lord Suffolk, who is trying to catch my eye.“
“Dear Suffolk,“ Chapuys replies, picking a morsel of chicken from his teeth. “I shall accompany you, and offer my greetings, you English are such capital fellows!”
Cromwell sees he will not shake the Spanish ambassador off, and allows him to tag along. Picking their way through dozing diners, and darting servants, the Privy Councillor and the overdressed Savoyard diplomat arrive, at last by the side of both Suffolk, and the king.
“Thomas,” Henry says, through grease stained lips. “My dearest friend, with his funny little frog. No, my second dearest friend … for dear, dear Charles is here. Did I ever tell you, how his father carried my father’s banner at Bosworth Field? Suffolk is alike to me as a brother, and you, dear Thomas, are as a loving father. Can any king have ever had two such noble friends?”
“To the death, Harry,” Suffolk replies. He knows when Henry has drunk too much, and fancies he knows how to handle him. “Never forget, even in the darkest hours, that Cromwell and I love you, and act only for your own good.”
“My goodness. So serious, Charles. What is this all about?” Henry lurches from his seat, and embraces the two of them. Poor Chapuys, who is standing between the two is swept in also, and almost suffocates in the combined manly hug. Henry’s wine soaked breath stinks of garlic and onion. “Do you want another castle, or does my blacksmith’s lad want a knighthood at last?”
“We want nothing, dear friend,” Suffolk tells him. “It is only that we wish to speak with you about George.”
“George who?” Henry frowns. How many Georges does he know, and why does one come to interrupt his dinner?
“Why, George Boleyn, Harry.” Suffolk takes a deep breath and wonders how to introduce the word ‘sodomite’ into polite conversation, especially with the Holy Roman Emperor’s man listening with all attentiveness.
“Oh, you mean that George.” Henry growls, his features clouding over. “The fellow is a damned rascal, and a filthy, philandering rogue, sir. I have a mind to box his ears!”
“Then you know?” Suffolk asks.
“Know?” the king says. “Of course I bloody well know, Charles. Look about you, man. Is he here? No, sir, he is not. The scurrilous dog missed the boat, did he not, and just in my hour of greatest need.”
“Your hour of need?” Suffolk is confused.
“Never mind, Norris stood in for him,” Henry says, with a happy chuckle. “Let me tell you my little secret, dear friends. Before dinner, I wed my sweet, innocent Anne. England has a new queen!”
Eustace Chapuys almost faints. This news will send shock waves throughout Europe, and he is the only foreigner here to hear it. Henry glowers at him, as if trying to recall where they have met before, so he scurries off, before someone thinks to silence him.
“Congratulations, sire,” Cromwell says, forcing a smile to his own lips. “You have caught us off guard. When you say that you and Lady Anne have married … you mean that you have exchanged promises … until a real wedding can be arranged, with Canterbury, or Winchester to officiate?”
“Do I?” Henry says. “Is there a difference?”
“There most certainly is, sire. A verbal promise is not legally binding, unless sworn on a bible in front of witnesses,” Thomas Cromwell, England’s finest lawyer explains.
“Oh, Anne said that too,” Henry replies. “Luckily old Norris never travels without one to hand. The Calais priest is one of our new lot, too, so even Tyndale cannot complain about legality.”
“Then that is that.” Cromwell must hide his rage and frustration. Instead, he mumbles about not having enough time to buy a fine gift.
“I have all I need,” Henry tells them. “With Anne at my side, I shall sire strong boys, and they will make England even greater.”
“Amen,” says Cromwell. “Long live Queen Anne!”
It is the twenty fifth day of January, in the year 1533, and Henry’s official wedding is just coming to an end. It takes place in front of a handful of invited nobility, close relatives, and ministers of state, and is closed off to the common man.
The first chance they have to see their new queen is on the short walk from the chapel, back to the palace, and several hundred are gathered to witness the spectacle. As he progresses, flowers are thrown at the king’s feet, and people cry out from the multitude.
“Gor’ bless you, Hal!” The king glows with pride, and has one of his pages throw a handful of coppers into the crowd.
“Long live King Harry!” He waves, generously at his people.
“See… there is the French Whore!”
There is a ripple of laughter, which Henry ignores. He reaches the safety of the palace, still smiling, and draws Anne inside, away from public view.
“Did you hear?” she hisses at her husband. He blushes and looks about for help. It is Thomas Cromwell who steps forward to calm the situation. He throws Henry a worried look, then turns on a calming smile for the new queen.
“I have agents mixed in with the crowd, Your Majesty,” he says. “They will report to me, if they k
now the culprit. I shall treat the scoundrel hard, madam.”
“Well, where is he?”
“Outside, Master Cromwell,” Barnaby Fowler says.
“Bring him in.” Fowler leaves the study, and returns with a youth, whom he pushes towards his master.
“Digby Waller, sir,” Fowler says. “The fellow who does not like French whores.”
“Excellent. Here is how I treat you, Master Digby Waller,” he tosses over a purse with ten shillings in it. “There will be another ten, each month, providing the lady cannot go about in public without being scorned. Do not get caught.”
“For a pound I can have rude words daubed on the palace walls, sir.”
“Master Waller, I admire your style,” Thomas Cromwell says. “Barnaby will find you some black livery, and you shall be one of my young men, at six pounds a year, to start.”
“Why, thank you, Master Cromwell,” the startled young man replies. “Who do you want me to kill?”
“No one,” Cromwell replies, smiling. “Not yet.”
~end~
Afterword
Master Cromwell has a new queen, readers, and must work within the new rules of engagement.
The rumours of George Boleyn’s homosexuality have persisted down the years, but there is no evidence to support the speculation. Nor is there very much evidence to suggest his alleged incest was anything more than a lawyer’s trick. The general opinion of his contemporaries, friend and foe alike, was that he was a man of intelligence, though overbearing, and self centred.
Peregrine Martell is a fiction, though many of his crimes were common in Tudor England. The buying up of debts, poisoning rich relatives, and kidnapping young girls to work in whore houses was rife, and little or no law existed to regulate these crimes.
The unlawful marriage of a royal was a serious matter, and the ramifications could dangerous. In a later time, George, Prince of Wales, entered into a fraudulent contract with his mistress, and the scandal rocked the house of Hanover.
That Henry bigamously wed his mistress Bessy Blount is a fiction, though Charles Brandon, Earl of Suffolk, did marry Henry’s sister, Mary, without royal approval. Henry was urged to put Brandon to death, but mitigated the offence down to a fine of £24,000 (£7.2 million pounds at today’s rate.) which he later reduced to an even more manageable level.
Elizabeth Amadas is a strange footnote in Tudor history. She was a lady in waiting for some years and seems to be one of the few who refused the king’s advances. Portraits show her to be a woman of ’comely’ appearance, and Henry went so far as to buy a house, where he expected her to pleasure him. Instead, she spurned him, and married Robert Armadas, the richest goldsmith in England.
He died within the year, and Elizabeth set about condemning Anne Boleyn in the strongest terms. With frightening foresight, she predicted Anne’s downfall, and said that witchcraft would be a key element.
In 1532 Elizabeth Amadas was arrested for treason. She had described Anne Boleyn as a harlot, and said that she should be burnt. She also said that the king, by setting aside Catherine of Aragon for a younger woman, was encouraging the men of England to do the same.
She continued to write against the divorce, and described herself as a ‘witch and prophetess’. Arrested, and investigated, as a suspected witch, nothing came of the charges, but Elizabeth never recovered her position at court.
She also stated that Henry had asked her, many times, to join her at the house of William Compton in Thames Street. She alleged that Compton, a close friend of the king, had often been used to facilitate Henry’s sexual forays. She never disclosed whether or not she became the king’s lover.
Mistress Amadas finally retired to the countryside, where she died young, of natural causes. Her predictions proved, after her death, to be very accurate.
Rafe Sadler wed his widow, only for her dead husband to reappear, some years later. A special act of parliament had to be passed to clear the mess up. Rafe kept his wife, and they had seven children together.
Anne Stevens 30thSept 2015
Coming soon…….
The Alchemist Royal
The year 1533 dawns on an England that is yet to wake up to the immense upheavals that lie ahead. King Henry has, without a word of warning, gone through a form of wedding ceremony in the Port of Calais, and returns to his realm with his new wife, Anne Boleyn. They wed, officially, on the 25th of January, 1533.
The keys to the kingdom seem to be within her grasp, and it only remains to be seen how she will respond to her new found status. Thomas Cromwell countenances a firm, but benign hand, gently guiding Henry, rather than attempting to bully him into her ways of doing things.
The marriage, though yet to be made official, with a visit to Westminster for the great bishops to sanctify it, is like a weapon placed in the hands of those who do not know how best to wield it.
Thomas Boleyn, the father of the new dynasty, immediately declares himself to be the 1st Earl of Wiltshire, and affects the title of ‘Monsignor’, to raise him above lesser nobles, such as Norfolk and Suffolk. His son, George, is soon to find himself with almost continuous access to both the king, and his sister, and his standing amongst the court ‘braves’ will never be higher.
The King’s Oath is making its steady, unstoppable way into the English statute books, and will help drive a wedge between kings and commoners that will culminate in civil war, and tear the country apart. In the short term it will allow for the removal of any who oppose the new regime.
Thomas Cromwell, and Queen Anne, once allies, are estranged over how the confiscated wealth of the Roman church is to be spent, and spend their days trying to win some small advantage in the struggle. For Anne, it is about power, but for the Privy Councillor, it is much more. He understands that he is becoming locked in a life or death struggle with the queen, and that there can be but one victor.
The old Catholic hierarchy is crumbling away, to be replaced by the new religion … Henry’s own Church of England, and a new air of optimism is abroad. The king has never been more popular, and his new bride is tolerated, as long as she keeps out of the public eye.
News of Anne’s pregnancy, changes things, and the prospect of a royal son moves her into the ascendancy. All at Austin Friars hold their breaths in trepidation. For once she has a son to show Henry, Anne Boleyn’s power over him will become absolute….
‘The Alchemist Royal; A Courtier’s Fall.’ is the seventh instalment in the ‘Tudor Crimes’ series, and will be available Jan/Feb 2016.
TightCircle Publications are a small publishing house, who rely entirely on sales through Amazon. We hope you enjoyed this book, and recommend it to a friend. A good review also helps sales, and increased sales help keep our costs down so we can continue to sell to the reading public at a fair price.
Other books in the series:
Winter King
Midnight Queen
The Stolen Prince
The Condottiero
The King’s Angels
The author and publishers hold the soul rights to the publication, dissemination, and printing of these books, by whatever means is available. The intellectual property rights remain with the author, and no part should, without permission, ever be quoted, re-printed, e-mailed or in any other way promoted, without the express written permission of the owner.
Nor should it ever be read by my brother-in-law, as he is too intellectually challenged to understand.
Lus dedicationem aedis morionem.
This book is dedicated to “CS“, in the forlorn hope that he should ever be able to separate fact from fiction.
The Author.
We here at TightCircle Publishing believe that good interaction with our readers is essential. If you have any constructive comments, criticisms, or simply want information about forthcoming books, please contact us at: [email protected]
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What others have said about Anne Stevens, and her historical fiction……
&nbs
p; 5 out of 5 stars from: Swan2 re Winter King.
‘I love the Shardlake series and it reminded me a bit of them. A good read for the holidays … though I worked out the killer quite early on!’
5 stars 24 Jun. 2015: By Amazon Customer: ‘Brilliant, I enjoyed every bit of it !’
5 stars, posted 28 Oct. 2015 by C. J. Parsons Kindle Edition Verified Purchase
‘A gripping read… well written.’
Customer Reviews of ‘Midnight Queen’
5.0 out of 5 stars. 24 Jun. 2015 by Amazon Customer / Kindle edition.
‘Excellent read ,cannot wait for next one…’
4.0 out of 5 stars, posted on 14th Oct. 2015 by Maureen Price
Format:Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase : “Didn't want it to end”
And finally….. You can’t please ‘em all, can you?
1.0 out of 5 stars, posted on 2 Oct. 2015
By Burt the dog (Kindle Edition) (Printed as written)
The story in this would be OK apart from the very poor English. It reminds me of Enid Blyton. There is very little description that helps you believe you are in that time and place. In addition when you get to the climax the main character is able to manipulate every suspect and reveal some secrets about that is just unbelievable. I have also read Shardlake, Brother Athlestone and various others. This series is not a patch on any of them.
Bel Ami says:
I think the tense , the style of writing, is designed to keep up the tension, and give an urgency to the story. Sure, the author could have added another fifty odd pages of turgid description to fill out the volume, but it would have taken the edge off a well written, and witty novella. I am sure the author will be more than happy to be ranked alongside Enid Blyton. I'm sorry the ‘Burt the Dog’ reviewer did not get it, and look forward to the next instalments.
