Moth To The Flame

by Angela Warwick

  Defensively he replied “I did not see you”.

  “I made sure that you did not!” she flashed.

  Henry slipped his arms around her unyielding frame. “But sweetheart” he protested. “He had only come to ask my permission for Campeggio to return to Rome. I would have had to receive him sooner or later to give my consent”

  “But there was no need for you to greet him so lovingly, was there?” she stormed. “A nod in his direction would have served as answer to his question!”

  She refused to listen to any of his explanations and in an attempt to mollify her, he promised that she would ride by his side when they entered London.

  “What of the Queen?” she asked in astonishment.

  “The Queen knows better than to question my actions” he growled, his mood by now as sour as Anne’s.

  So as the procession neared the city walls, Anne spurred her horse to the head of the procession and reined in beside the king. He was desperately eager to regain her goodwill and as they rode past one of Wolsey’s houses, York Place, and Anne commented on its beauty and situation, he saw his chance.

  “If you want it, then you shall have it sweetheart” he told her boastfully.

  Anne looked at him with raised eyebrows “You would steal it from Wolsey no doubt on condition that I restore you to my affections?”

  The King beamed. “You are very perceptive, Lady Rochford. So, is it a bargain?” He stretched out his hand towards her.

  Anne turned in her saddle to look behind them at the great house, one of the finest in London. Straight faced, she resumed her forward facing seat and put her hand into the King’s outstretched paw. “A bargain!” she affirmed, then laughed exultantly.

  From then on, York Place became the Lady Anne Rochford’s official London residence. Although Durham House still remained in her possession, she avoided going there, still fearing its isolation. Instead, she passed it to her family for their use.

  Wolsey was again exiled, this time to Esher in Surrey. There he lived quietly, always in fear for his life for he had seen the malicious triumph on the face of the Lady Anne as she had watched him leave the house she coveted. She was about to extract her revenge for all the wrongs, real and imagined, that he had inflicted upon her during her brief life; he could sense that.

  He knew himself to be a hunted man and it was not long before he received word that an indictment was bring prepared against him. He was to be accused under “praemunire”; his offence being that in introducing Campeggio into England, he had inhibited the power of the King. His office, the Chancellorship of England, was stripped from him and the Great Seal removed from his keeping.

  Soon after Wolsey’s disgrace was made public, his ambitious under secretary Thomas Cromwell left his service and travelled to London, seeking a new position. Cromwell was a shrewd and clever man; Wolsey had served as an excellent tutor but his star was on the wane and Thomas knew that if he wanted to get on in the world, the only place for him was at court, near Anne Boleyn.

  He quickly gained an audience with her and told her that he had a suggestion to make to the King which could lead to the matter of the divorce being speedily concluded. Without delay she ushered him into Henry’s presence where he humbly recommended that Henry lead England away from the Pope’s influence and install himself as head of the English church.

  Within days of Cromwell’s arrival at court, the Boleyn family chaplain also gained an audience with the King. He was Thomas Cranmer, a religious scholar for whose knowledge the King had a healthy respect. “Your Grace” Cranmer began. “I have prayed incessantly to our Heavenly Father these past few days and am now convinced that Your Grace is correct in fearing that your marriage to the Queen is invalid”. Cranmer paused and shot a sly glance at the King; Henry looked smug and extremely pleased. Cranmer continued “In my humble view, Your Grace should ask the opinions of the learned men of this country for I am sure that they would support Your Grace’s cause”.

  Henry leaned forward. “You mean, consult the universities?”

  “Exactly, Sire”.

  With the King’s blessing, Cranmer was speedily dispatched to canvass the universities of England. In due course he was able to inform the King that they had all voted in favour of a divorce and remarriage. Henry was delighted and suggested they take the cause further afield, to the foreign seats of learning. Cranmer felt it would be an excellent idea and immediately undertook the task.

  However, the continental canvassing was expected to take some time, leaving the King and Anne kicking their heels. The great ponderous machine that was the divorce was slowly gaining impetus, but it seemed that nothing would hurry it. Then Anne remembered her old enemy Wolsey, living quietly in retirement; the King having suspended the proposed indictment. The time had come to strike the final, fatal blow

  Chapter 22 - Downfalls

  It was late September in the year 1530; the court had recently moved to Windsor in order to escape the stuffiness of a London which had endured yet another overpoweringly hot summer.

  The King had gone hunting, an all-male affair, which left Anne to her own devices that day. She and Margaret Wyatt were spending their time ambling slowly through the great park, the vast green expanse reminding them nostalgically of their respective childhood homes, Hever and Allington.

  As they wandered along, Margaret reflected to herself upon how much Anne had changed since those carefree days. The soft, loving child had turned into a hard, brittle woman whose frequent laughter held a fragile, fractured gaiety. Of late, she had made more enemies than friends and she still seemed convinced that her ill-wishers were led by the exiled Cardinal Wolsey.

  Glancing sideway at her friend, Margaret asked “Nan, why do you still hate Wolsey so much?”

  Immediately she replied flippantly “Because he wrecked my life”

  “How so?”

  “Ever since Harry Percy and I fell in love. Even then Wolsey was aware that the King had noticed me, which was why I was banished to the country for those three long years. Then, years later , when the King began to advance my father, Wolsey interfered whenever he could; always making it his business to suggest plenty of alternative candidates for any post my father was likely to get. More recently, in the matter of the divorce; when it was in his hands he made no attempt to bring things to a head. I tell you he has always hated me Meg, likely because although comparatively low-born like himself, I threaten to rise far higher than he”. Exhausted by her tirade, Anne leaned weakly against the convenient trunk of an ancient oak.

  “He is an old man now” stated Margaret, picking absently at the knotted bark. “Can you not let him die in peace?”

  “I wish he would die” Anne replied vehemently. “Sometimes I believe that all my troubles would die with him. He is too quiet Meg. He is working against me still; I would stake my life on it!”

  Margaret sensed that Anne was spoiling for a fight; needing somebody upon whom to vent her frustrations. She was about to steer the conversation towards a less controversial subject when the distant sound of a hunting horn reached their ears.

  “It must be the King!” cried Anne, pushing herself away from the tree and peering into the distance, one hand shading her eyes. “Come Meg, we must return quickly to the path. Maybe we could get a ride back to the castle!” Her ill humour quickly forgotten, Anne lifted her skirts free of the turf and ran lightly across the uneven grass towards the winding woodland path.

  Margaret half turned, also shaded her eyes from the glare, and looked back at the distant castle. “Yes, Anne, I think a ride might be a good idea” she called, running to join her. “We seem to have walked a good deal further than we intended. I hope the King spots us!”

  Anne laughed, looking down at her bright yellow gown and then at Margaret in her crimson. “He could hardly miss us!” she cried. “For surely we shine like beacons amongst all this green!”

  Standing quietly, listening hard, they gazed at the horizon. Within minutes a part
y of horsemen came galloping into view, the unmistakable figure of Henry Tudor at their head. Whatever else the King lacked, he was blessed with excellent eyesight and was one of the first to recognise one of the two ladies ahead as Anne. His horse increased speed and he pulled up alongside Anne and Margaret with a flourish. “What have we here!” he exclaimed jovially.

  As his gentlemen crowded round, Thomas Wyatt pushed his horse through the throng to the side of his King and said “Surely this must be the best sport we have seen all day?”

  “You could be right Wyatt” beamed the King. “You could well be right!”

  Noticing the pack horses carried several deer carcasses, Anne said demurely “I trust Your Grace is not intending to destroy us for trophies?”

  “Indeed not!” he laughed. “Such delightful stock as yourselves would be better employed in breeding!” Both ladies laughed politely, despite his crudeness. “However” he continued “I cannot let such prizes slip from my grasp”. He patted the pommel of his saddle “There is room for you here, my Anne”.

  “I thank Your Grace for such a kind offer” she answered. “But what of my companion?”

  The King gestured towards his gentlemen. “I am sure there will be no shortage of volunteers to convey Mistress Margaret back to Windsor”.

  No sooner had he finished speaking, Anne’s brother George piped up “I claim the honour!”

  Margaret was highly delighted at this. She had harboured a childish adoration for handsome George Boleyn for many years and even now, despite the fact that he was married and she betrothed to Sir Anthony Lee, she worshipped him.

  The two ladies were helped into the arms of their respective knights, and then the party galloped the remaining distance to the castle, Anne and Margaret squealing with mock terror at the precariousness of their perches.

  Regrettably it was not long before Anne managed to destroy the King’s good humour, for as soon as they were alone, she began talking of the Cardinal. “I am sure he is conspiring against us Henry; he is suspiciously quiet”.

  “Leave him be, Anne” the King pleaded. “He has given me many years of devoted service”.

  “Not so over the divorce!” she flashed back. “Have you so soon forgotten of the treason he committed in allowing Campeggio to humiliate you?”

  Henry regarded her shrewdly, then selected an apple from a silver platter and bit noisily into it. “Wolsey is allowed no further dealings in the divorce case” he told her, his tongue in hot pursuit of the apple juice which threatened to run into his beard.

  “But what if he is in contact with the Pope?” she persisted. “It could be Wolsey’s hand which yet prevents the Pope from reconsidering. We are not to know what he is up to at Cawood, so far from London. He should be arrested, Henry”.

  “Have you proof of what you say?”

  “I have no way of knowing for sure!” she burst out. “But it stands to reason that he is working against us. He hates me, you know he does. He also believes that your marriage to Catherine is valid. I tell you it is almost certain that he has advised the Pope to hold out, hoping that you become so exasperated by the delay that you cast me from you!” So violent were her protestations that she broke into hysterical sobbing, truly believing that her assumptions were correct.

  Henry made haste to comfort her, unmanned as always by the sight of a woman’s tears. Knowing that she was unable to cry prettily, as some ladies could, Anne kept her face hidden as she blurted out “If this case drags on much longer I shall never be able to have your son. Wolsey’s incompetence has already wasted my best childbearing years!”

  With a start, Henry realised that she spoke the truth. Already she was twenty three; late by Tudor standards to begin childbearing. Holding her close he murmured softly. “You shall have your way. In trying to prevent our marriage for so long he has committed treason many times over. I will have him arrested and brought to London for questioning”.

  Drying her tears, she looked up into his face. “I would ask you one favour Sire”.

  Prepared as always to grant her anything she desired in order to cheer her, he tenderly asked “What is it?”

  “Send Harry Percy to arrest him”.

  She felt his body stiffen slightly. It would not do for him to think she still loved the auburn haired northerner. Hastily she added “I only ask that Percy do the deed because he lives near to the Cardinal and the sooner he is in custody, the better for our cause”.

  It was a feeble excuse, but one that Henry was ready to accept. “It shall be as you wish, sweetheart” he told her. “A messenger shall be sent to Northumberland with the warrant as soon as I get time to put quill to parchment”.

  Nestled in the protective arms of her King, Anne was content. Her long lost lover would share with her the ultimate triumph of bringing down the man who had destroyed their tender young love.

  However, as it turned out, Anne was to be cheated of witnessing her greatest enemy’s final downfall. At the beginning of December word reached the King that Wolsey had been unable to travel very far due to illness. Eventually the prisoner had reached Leicester Abbey where he had died from dysentery on November 29th.

  Henry received the news with little emotion, merely saying that perhaps it was better for Wolsey to die of natural causes and thus spare the country the expense of the trial and execution. He displayed no grief for the man he had so often called his ‘dear Thomas’ and ordered no court mourning.

  Anne was naturally relieved that her greatest enemy was no more and her improved spirits greatly cheered the King. Christmas that year was the gayest that Greenwich had seen for some years.

  The New Year, which began with such hope and optimism, was blighted by the news that Clement, still prevaricating in Rome, had issued a Brief forbidding the King of England to remarry until a decision had been reached, otherwise any resulting child would be illegitimate. The Pope also forbade anyone in England to make any decision on the affair or risk excommunication.

  Henry had suspected that Clement would take such steps, so received the news with little surprise. With his agents in Rome, and Cromwell and Cranmer working industriously, there was nothing to do but wait until the deadlock was broken.

  Off his own back, Henry embarked on a course of action which he hoped would bring home strongly to Clement that he was truly determined to divorce Catherine. Instead of appearing with the Queen in public as he had done throughout his marriage, he began leaving her behind, refusing even to acknowledge her existence.

  If a function demanded the presence of a lady by his side, he would take Anne, sumptuously dressed in the manner of the Queen he hoped she soon would be.

  When it was again time to leave London for the summer progress, Catherine was left behind; Anne riding in her place beside the King. The people would gather by the roadside to watch them pass, staring silently at Anne. The women would mutter that they could not understand what the King saw in her. The men too wondered at the King’s actions until Anne turned her great black eyes to them, then in a flash they would experience her strange magnetism, they too would share the King’s passionate desire to know more of her secrets.

  Hunting-wise, the progress that year was a dismal failure. The wet weather which had plagued London since the beginning of the year followed them to Woodstock where the court was forced to congregate in the palace for much of the time. To Anne’s horror, a combination of boredom and frustration saw Henry renew his assaults on her honour with relentless vigour.

  Day after day he pleaded with her to become his mistress in fact, and when pleading had no effect on her, he launched physical onslaughts. Such insistence was hard to resist and many a time Anne was at the point of submission when a little voice inside her would say, ‘surrender now and he will never marry you’ and thus she would somehow find the strength of mind and body to hold him off.

  Still the rain persisted, and then a message came from Windsor to say that the weather there was fine and the hunting good. Henry lost no ti
me in travelling southwards, but not before he had made yet another significant move. Catherine was in residence at Windsor and he sent a message to her demanding that she leave the castle before the court arrived. She was told to go to The More, another house which had formerly belonged to Cardinal Wolsey. Catherine realised with a sinking heart that she had to obey, understanding that this was Henry’s public declaration of their official separation. Her banishment from Windsor was only the start of the pattern; whenever she happened to be staying at a palace the King wished to visit, she would be moved away before his arrival.

  By August Anne had taken over the Queen’s apartments in every royal residence, having alterations made to her own specifications. Meanwhile the King wrote a curt note to Catherine instructing her to choose a house in which to live out her retirement.

  So for the first time in many a year, only one lady presided over the Christmas celebrations at Greenwich. Anne was now wearing the Queen’s jewels and furs and living in her rooms; she now longed for the moment when she would wear the Queen’s crown.

  Chapter 23 – Marquess of Pembroke

  The wrangling over the divorce continued for the first eight months of 1532 with neither side making any real progress. The long wait was beginning to seriously affect the relationship between the King and Anne, with her taking every opportunity to remind him just how much she was risking for his sake. However on one occasion she went so far as to exhaust even Henry’s endless patience with her, and he burst out that for her sake he was turning his country upside down and risking civil war.