“I’ve failed you as a wife,” I said through tears. “I can’t give you want you want. You’re not going to leave me, like the King is going to leave Catherine!” I saw the Oarsman’s ears prick up towards the mention of Catherine being abandoned, but then he continued as normal, as if oblivious.
George smiled and then said “Don’t be silly Jane! The truth is, I couldn’t. I can’t do without you. Why would I want to leave you?”
“I feel like we’ve been growing apart, this is probably the first proper conversation we have had for a while. I am sorry that I haven’t given you a son yet.”
“Jane, I am sorry if I have made you feel like that. I don’t hate you, how could you think such a thing. I love you. I couldn’t do without you,” He said smiling and brushing my hair out of my wet face. “It’s true, I have father breathing down my neck, wondering when I am going to produce ‘the Boleyn Heir’, but we will get through this. Like that damsel on that ship. We will brave this storm together. We will find a way through this. I promise you.” I started to feel calmer, happier and believed him. “And if all else fails, we could always just take whatever son Anne has with Henry and pretend it is ours. Not her firstborn of course, maybe her fourth or fifth son, which will be forgotten about by everyone because she will have so many by him. I just can’t see my sister as the maternal type. She would willingly lock them away in their own grand households in the country, brought up by others and we will just have to claim one of them as our own.” We both started to laugh at the thought of Anne ever becoming a mother. “We wouldn’t get away with this with Mary though – she’s the total opposite! She wouldn’t let us anywhere near her children!”
He dried my tears and we continued to enjoy what was left of the boat journey as it headed back towards Greenwich. George then asked the Oarsman to take a detour. “I need to get back to Catherine this evening,” I said, suddenly starting to panic.
“No need to worry, I will talk to Catherine tomorrow and make the excuses for you! I will deal with this.” George replied with a hint of mischief. We spent the rest of the evening and night enjoying more precious time with each other in an Inn and continued to try and conceive the Boleyn Heir.
June 1528, Greenwich Palace
“Sit still, head up slightly and look straight-ahead at me,” the artist said. I was having a painting done by the artist, Hans Holbein. He was working on many other sketches too, such as for Thomas More’s family. I was still stunned that I would be chosen for this. Why would anyone be interested in a painting of a mere lady-in-waiting? However, this had shown how far I had come in such a short space of time. From the moment that Anne returned to Henry the jewelled trinket of the lone damsel on the ship, it had brought into motion a series of events that to our disbelief could possibly end the marriage of our own Queen. Being Henry’s maîtresse-en-titre – his only mistress - was simply not enough for Anne. Anne wanted more; she wanted to be his wife. Since May last year, there have been secret annulment hearings. Henry told Catherine of his annulment plans and Anne’s acceptance of his proposal in marriage accelerated events even more, with the King reaching the decision to ask the Pope for a dispensation to allow him to marry again.
As I recalled the events, my eyebrows furrowed. Hans stopped what he was doing and looked up at me with his arms crossed. “Lady Boleyn, why are you frowning? I need to see your smile.” I calmed down and gave a slight smile, looking ahead, with my blonde hair peaking underneath my French Hood and both my arms on either side showing off my grand, furred sleeves. “That’s a lot better, now keep it like this,” he said. “You have lovely hair and blue eyes – I want to bring them out in this painting. This will be such a lovely painting! Your husband will be proud of it!”
I couldn’t help noticing that it was a bit quieter than usual. A maid came into the room and started sweeping the rushes on the floor. I couldn’t help noticing though that she looked like she was struggling, a bit slow. “Are you well?” I asked her.
“Oh, I’m fine, my lady, and thank you!” She responded. I wasn’t convinced though as she kept stopping and touching the middle of her brow as if she was experiencing a headache.
“Maybe you should rest for a little while?” I suggested.
“No, don’t worry, I’m fine!” She exclaimed, but then doubled-up, clutching her stomach in pain. Hans immediately stopped what he was doing. To our shock, she then vomited and collapsed onto the floor.
“I’m going to fetch someone!” I shouted and began to panic. Hans stayed where he was, fearful of what he was seeing. To my surprise, the King’s physician just happened to be wandering down the corridor. It’s not often you can find him away from the King’s chambers – something was definitely wrong. He was being kept unusually busy by something away from the King. “Wait! Please help us! A lady has just collapsed and vomited in this room!” I called to him. He immediately followed me.
As we arrived in the room, I almost jumped back in horror. She had progressively got even worse, lying in the middle of the floor on her back, sweating hard. She was still alive, but wasn’t moving, as if paralysed, staring upwards with a glazed expression towards the ceiling. The physician urged us both to keep away from the woman.
“Will she be well again?” I asked him, although looking at her now, it seemed like a silly question.
“Only the next few hours will tell, my lady,” he replied. “I’m afraid she has contracted The Sweat and I strongly advise both of you to go away from the Palace. His Majesty has already fled to Waltham Abbey – a maidservant of your sister-in-law Anne became ill and died only this morning.”
“Anne? And George, where’s George?” I asked, thinking out loud in panic.
“I believe he has already left with His Majesty with some other members of the privy chamber. The King did not waste any time I’m afraid.”
“I must find Anne!” I then said to myself.
I ran for what seemed like ages, past many rooms in the Palace, just trying to get to Anne’s bedchamber. When I got there, I found Anne sat on the bed quietly and her father sitting in the corner. “Oh, you’re both fine! I was so worried!” I said, catching my breath and then sitting down on the bed as I regained some composure. “George has gone though, he has left!”
“Yes, I know,” Anne said bluntly and then turned towards me. “With the King, who just ran away! How could he just leave me like this?! He just ran away!” She said, her voice becoming increasingly angry.
“Anne, the King is extremely fearful of illness,” Thomas then said, calmly. “He probably wasn’t thinking straight and just ran for his life.”
“And left me here to die!” Anne replied, starting to sound very melodramatic.
“No, he has not abandoned you,” Thomas, the voice of reason, replied. “Come daughter. Let’s make our way back to Hever. We need to get away from here before we contract this terrible illness.”
“I hope George will be well,” I then said.
“He will be fine, Jane, he can look after himself,” Thomas replied. “He’s with the King and the King will be well-protected from any illnesses.” I believed Thomas’ words of assurance and relaxed.
We rode to Hever Castle immediately. My thoughts raced, hoping that George would stay well. I thought of my parents, although fortunately they were back at Great Hallingbury. I then worried about my brother Henry and my sister-in-law, Grace, who may have still been at the Palace. I hoped and prayed that they had gone back to Great Hallingbury too.
When we arrived at Hever, Elizabeth greeted us at the gateway, a look of great relief on her face at seeing us come back safely. She hugged Anne and I tightly and then we all followed her inside.
I felt a bit safer that we were at least away from the city. However, our sense of security was short-lived.
I awoke in the middle of the night to some commotion. I grabbed a shawl, lit a candle and made my way down the corridor. I was then suddenly stopped by Elizabeth. “Don’t go in there!” She was in a stat
e of panic and almost tearful, but regained some composure. “Jane, I’m afraid both my husband and Anne have been struck down by this terrible illness! We must keep away from their rooms until, well, until they recover,” she tried not to even think of the possibility of losing one, or both of them.
Elizabeth and I could get no sleep that night. We simply sat in the Morning Room, in the candlelight, just in silence, thinking, even praying. The silence was a great contrast to the madness in Anne and Thomas’ chambers. Delirium was taking hold of them and the maids and servants fought to make sure they did not throw off their bedclothes. “I sent a messenger to the King,” Elizabeth then said. “I’m hoping he will send a physician, or some kind of help.” As we waited, all the maids and servants could do in the meantime is follow the general advice of making sure both Anne and Thomas sweated, to release the evil from the body. I could hear the commotion as they tried to keep them wrapped up in their bedclothes and quilts. They could not be exposed to the air. Whilst they kept them wrapped up, other attendants lit a great fire in their chambers to make them sweat even more.
My thoughts drifted to George, wondering if he was still safe. He had to be – he was with the King after all, who had the best physicians. Surely no harm could reach him. Eventually tiredness caught up with me, my eyelids began to flutter, before I drifted off to sleep.
I found myself in a garden, but it didn’t look like an earthly garden. There were roses, trees and fields, but the sun was a lot brighter than usual. I shaded my eyes as I tried to see into the distance. There I saw George and Anne hurrying into what looked like a maze. I picked up my skirts and tried to keep up with them. “Stop! Wait!” They couldn’t hear me and just carried on, giggling into this great maze decorated, some walls with white roses and the others with red roses, their thorns also just as distinctive as their colours. As I got nearer, I could see that the source of this great light was at the centre and they both were drawn to it. For some reason, I feared it, I just wasn’t ready to find out what it was, but they merrily carried on, laughing and teasing each other along the way as they kept running into dead ends of the maze. I finally managed to catch up with them, I was just metres behind them and I shouted “Stop! Wait for me!” and George did turn, but it was like he could only just about hear me. I became more frustrated and agitated and just as I was about to follow them, I felt an arm drag me back. I turned and it was Thomas. “Just let them go,” he told me. Confused, I fought with him, but his grip was overpowering and all I could do was just watch as Anne and George gradually disappeared towards the centre, into this overwhelming, heavenly light. The light became brighter and almost blinding.
I then woke up with a start, panicking. I then remembered where I was and calmed down. Thank goodness that was just a dream! I looked around me. It was nearly dawn and Elizabeth sat idly in the chair in front of the fire, still wide-awake. “Bad dream?” She asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied.
“Maybe it was a premonition, or too much to drink,” She said half-joking.
“Maybe,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure what had happened just then. I had had very strange dreams before, especially whilst receiving my medical treatment, but nothing like this. What did it mean? Was it a premonition? Was it a sign about George, or Anne?
Elizabeth then got up as a messenger arrived from the King. “You’re quick young man!” She said.
“Good morning my lady, the King sends his physician Dr. Butts,” The messenger replied. Dr. Butts was showed in immediately to Thomas and Anne’s chambers to help continue the fight. “I also bring some other news,” He continued. His expression was quite grim and Elizabeth immediately invited him in into the Entrance Hall and we all took a seat. A servant from the Kitchen offered him some ale. “Well, go on man,” Elizabeth urged him.
“I’m afraid that your son, George, has also contracted this illness,” He said gently. Elizabeth turned away, as if not wanting to hear anymore, this night was just too much for her as it was. First her husband and daughter, now her son, falling prey to The Sweat. An overwhelming fear and coldness gripped me; I was torn between wanting to know more and not wanting to know the rest of the news. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around me and we hugged each other to try and draw strength from each other. The messenger continued “I’m afraid, I have no other news of his condition. All I know is that he was putting up a good fight as I left to come here.” I was numb. Was this what the dream was about? Was God trying to prepare me for something? “I am sorry, but as soon as I have news, I will rush back to you as soon as possible!”
Elizabeth nodded to him and managed a smile, grateful of his services. He bid us good bye and we were left sitting there, numb and waiting to find out what would happen next.
Elizabeth became very weary and I encouraged her to try and get back to sleep. She left me alone in the Entrance Hall as I watched the sun rise. My thoughts wondered. The pain of being separated from George gradually gnawed away at me. I couldn’t bear it. What if this was it, that I would never see him again, I could not be with him at his side at least on his deathbed to say good bye? I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do. “Just let them go,” the words from Thomas in my dream echoed in my mind. Is this what I was being prepared to do? To just let him go?
There was suddenly some commotion outside. Another messenger had appeared. Elizabeth and some maids emerged and brought him into the Entrance Hall. “Good morning, my lady. I’m afraid I have come with very grave news,” He said. Elizabeth calmly invited him in. I couldn’t’ bear it. This was it, wasn’t it? He was bringing the news of my husband’s death. I excused myself from the room; I just couldn’t bear to hear what he had to say. I closed the door behind me and just sat and listened quietly from the other side.
There was a murmur and he left quickly. Elizabeth came into the room and sat down next to me. “Jane, it’s bad news from Greenwich Palace,” she said.
“Greenwich?” I asked, suddenly confused. This cannot be about George then. George was not at Greenwich.
“I’m afraid that William Carey has just died,” Elizabeth said. “My poor Mary, she is with him there. She will make her way to Hever as soon as she can. Fortunately, at least I know that Mary is well.”
I was shocked. He was only thirty-two years old. Poor Mary, what will she do now? Her poor young children? I felt shock, mixed with the ongoing anguish of not knowing the latest news on my George. I felt anger slowly simmering in me. “Surely not!” I said disbelieving. “Why? Are we being punished?” The anger then began to boil over inside me. “This is a punishment! We’re being punished by God! We’re being punished because of Anne’s actions!”
Elizabeth reached up to try and calm me. “Jane, please calm down, it has been a long night and you need to get some rest,” she gently urged me, but it was useless. I was so consumed by rage. I stormed out of the room towards Anne’s bed chamber. Dr. Butts saw me and tried to stop me, but it was useless as I successfully barged my way into the hot, sweating hell. “You are so selfish!! You only care about yourself!” I screamed at Anne. Anne lied on the bed, half-awake, sweating and totally oblivious to my rage. She rolled her eyes and was far too ill to care what I was saying. “I might be a widow now because of you!! You will kill us all! You will go to Hell and drag all of us with you!!” Anne slightly stirred, but had absolutely no idea what I was ranting about. I then collapsed on the floor, mentally and emotionally exhausted and started crying my heart out. Dr. Butts rushed in, helped me up and guided me slowly out of there towards Elizabeth who was waiting outside. The episode of bedlam was over. Elizabeth quietly walked with me back down to my chamber where I rested for the next few hours.
For Thomas, Anne and hopefully George, all we could do now was wait.
June 1528, Hever Church, Hever.
The Sweat had killed William Carey, but thankfully it spared Anne and Thomas and William’s brother, John Carey. To my horror, I also had discovered that George had contracted it too, but thankfull
y had survived. When he returned to Hever Castle, I sprinted up to meet him and hugged him like I never wanted to ever let him go again. Sadly the illness had not spared two of the King’s favourites in the Privy Chamber – Sir William Compton and Sir Edward Poyntz.
Like most victims of The Sweat, William was buried in a grave pit with other victims. It was too dangerous to bury him with his ancestors in Wiltshire. So, today, the Boleyn family with Mary Boleyn gathered in Hever Church for a special mass to pray for the souls of William and the others who were taken from us. We were joined by William’s sister, Elinor.
Elinor, Thomas and Anne walked back to Hever Castle, George and I following just behind them. I could not help eavesdropping on the heated discussion they were having. Elizabeth and Mary just kept silent, their thoughts to themselves. “The Cardinal has far too much power!” Anne said, indignant.
“Yes, he has now overreached himself!” Elinor replied. Elinor was the latest person that Wolsey had upset. “Why could he have not appointed me, just out of respect and sympathy for my dear brother?” Before William’s death, both he and Anne had pushed for the appointment of Elinor as abbess of a nunnery at Wilton, Wiltshire. Her rival to the post was Isabel Jordan.
George whispered to me “I can’t say I’m too surprised. The King did find out about Elinor’s two children. By two different priests.” I stifled a giggle.
Anne immediately turned around a playfully hit George. “I heard that! Anyway, that’s beside the point. The Cardinal – without the King’s permission – went ahead and just appointed Isabel! The King must punish him! He will not get away with this – not if I can help it!”
The Lady Rochford Saga Part 2: Tourmens de Mariage Page 7
