‘I know! I know!’ I said in a raised voice, my palms turned upwards and outstretched, emphasising my frustration, before I let them collapse onto my lap in sorry defeat. Margery considered me once again with one of her pragmatic silences and then spoke decisively.
‘Anne, you need friends to protect you in that vipers’ den; friends who will be your eyes and ears. I should speak to my husband for the time is approaching for me to return to court, if you will allow me . . .’ Margery nodded her head as if she had already made up her mind and my permission would be irrelevant, ‘ . . . as your true and loyal friend and companion.’ However, my assent had been gladly given already. I was deeply touched by Margery’s commitment to me in the face of her ailing husband and duties to her young family. With tears flowing down my cheeks, Margery got up and moved over to me; putting her motherly arms around me, she held me close. I felt a brave optimism at having a newfound friend that would never be far from my side. In the end, like Nan, Margery would remain loyally at my side until first the King, and then death, would finally wrench us apart.
Almost two weeks later, my mother and I arrived back at Hever, having spent Twelfth Night celebrations as guests of honour of Sir Henry Wyatt and his wife, Elizabeth at Allington Castle. It was a glorious affair, their family home buzzing with the activity of their large, extended family, several close friends and neighbouring families of gentle birth. Only Thomas, in active service at court, was missing, although I was somewhat relieved. As much as I enjoyed Thomas’s easy manner and entertaining banter, when our paths crossed at court, I would often find him gazing at me with eyes that conveyed beleaguered hope and emptiness.
I was also extremely wary of endangering Thomas. I recalled earlier that summer, during a game of bowls with the King, Thomas had foolishly pulled out the locket which he had stolen from me during our game of blind man’s bluff at Allington. A dispute had broken out between the two men over whose bowl had won the day, and I later understood from Mary Norris, whose husband Sir Henry had witnessed the game, that the debate had become quite heated.
It seems the King had pointed towards his bowl declaring victory, at the same time, pointedly extending his little finger, which was adorned by a ring that clearly belonged to Mistress Anne, the King’s beloved. Sir Thomas must have recognised this as such, and drew my locket from his doublet, using the ribbon to measure the distance between the bowl and the jack. As Sir Henry had explained to my friend Mary over dinner that evening, it was clear that the argument was less about who would be the victor of the game and more about who had won Mistress Boleyn’s heart!
When Henry recognised my locket, he declared loudly, ‘Then I must be deceived!’ and he had stormed off to find me. I knew that much, for the next thing that happened was that Henry burst into our apartments, demanding to speak with me. I was playing my harpsichord, singing a sweet ballad for my mother, as she embroidered by the fire side. Upon Henry’s fiery entrance, we were both startled, arising quickly and sinking into a deep curtsey. Henry had dismissed my mother brusquely, without even taking his gaze from me. Neither my mother, nor I, had seen the King so irate and could not begin to guess what could cause this choleric rage. Elizabeth Boleyn, who was intimidated by the King’s presence at the best of times, was terrified, scuttling from the room with our two maids, only pausing briefly at the door to cast a concerned and anxious glance in my direction.
When we were alone, the King had exploded into a fit of jealous ranting. He had paced the room, demanding to know of my relationship with Thomas Wyatt and whether he, the King, had been deceived in my love and loyalty towards him. For a moment, I was unsure how to react, until Anne calmly and boldly spoke through me. With great temerity and courage, I strode over to the King and faced him square on, stopping him in his tracks. Looking Henry straight in the eye, I spoke the truth without fear; that Sir Thomas had stolen the locket from me without my permission earlier that year and that my heart was true and my body chaste, and that I had already surrendered myself entirely to the King. My fierce composure and unflinching gaze must have conveyed the sincerity of my words, for rapidly the King’s blustering indignation subsided into an abashed affection, as he covered me in gentle kisses, and I soothed away his fears with my caresses and assurances.
When I saw Thomas a few days later and I was certain that we were alone, God help me but I vented my anger, furious at his recklessness for endangering my reputation and my future. Although I could not convey this to Thomas, I had also been scared for our lives. I forbade him entirely from further inappropriate and foolhardy behaviour, and from ever mentioning my name to the King again.
Just as dusk was settling over Hever Castle, my mother and I arrived back to be greeted in its small Entrance Hall by our maids, Bess and Alice, who helped us remove our furs and other outer garments. As they were doing so, Bess spoke up, addressing her words to me.
‘Whilst you were away, Madame, a messenger arrived from the King. He was carrying a letter and a gift of a buck for the table. On the King’s orders, the messenger insisted that we lodge him here at the castle until your return, for I understand that the King’s Grace wishes to hear of your health directly from your own hand.’
In the last few weeks, away from Henry, I had reflected a good deal about the situation in which Anne found herself. Living and breathing every step of this historic love, I surprised myself by the strength of my own feelings towards Henry, whose presence by then, I craved more than I dare even admit to myself. I knew Anne to be intelligent, levelheaded and determined, yet she was also a woman who had fallen deeply in love with her Prince. Even at that early stage, in 1527, when the King was completely besotted with Anne, it was clear that a happy outcome was improbable; politically the stakes were too high and the passion too intense. My intuition told me to break free; but the expectations and ambitions of the Boleyn family made it ever more impossible to retreat; as did my ever deepening desire to be at Henry’s side. I had longed for a message from the King since returning to Hever from Greenwich, and I found myself dizzy with excitement when it at last arrived. Reluctant to show the depth of my feelings outwardly, I said to Bess calmly, and with a certain degree of feigned indifference,
‘Then you had best tarry no more and bring me the King’s letter in the parlour.’
Alone in the sitting room, by the flickering candlelight, I paced back and forth as I read the King’s words, which were scrawled elegantly across the crisp parchment.
My mistress and friend,
Although, my mistress, you have not been pleased to remember your promise when I was last with you, to let me hear news of you, I think it part of a true servant to enquire after his mistress’s health, and send you this, desiring to hear of your prosperity. I also send by the bearer a buck killed by me this very day, hoping when you eat of it you will think of the hunter.
In the meantime, I and my heart put ourselves in your hands. Let not absence lessen your affection; for it causes us more pain than I should ever have thought, reminding us of the point of astronomy that the longer the days are, the further off is the sun, and yet the best is all the greater. So it is with our love, which keeps its further in absence at least on our side. Prolonged absence would be intolerable, if it were not for my firm hope in your indissoluble affection.
Written by the hand of your servant, who often wishes you in the place of your brother.
HR
I smiled and pressed the letter close to my breast, thinking with some amusement of Henry, longing for my presence; yet having to make do with the surrogate company of my boisterous younger brother. I marvelled at the potency of love to fill a person with radiant joy and overwhelming happiness even at a distance from the object of their affection. I read the letter over and over, as I often did when the King wrote to me; all the while, hearing his voice in my head and imagining the warm scent of his skin filling my nostrils.
After some moments pleasantly lost in my own thoughts, I remembered that the King’s mes
senger was waiting for my reply. I made haste to write my letter to Henry. Moving over to the nearby desk, I sat down rearranging the full skirts of my gown and pulling a nearby candle towards me so that I might see well enough to write. I recalled the first time that I had written to the King, shortly after my arrival in Anne’s world. I had been so unsure as to what to say, until Anne had taken control and composed my reply in fluent French. However, by then, I had come to know the man intimately, and my words flowed easily.
Sire,
Most humbly I thank your esteemed Majesty for your kind words and most generous gift which I shall never be able to deserve without your help. I send good tidings that I have been and remain in good health. My lady mother and I have these past two days been guests of Sir Henry and Lady Elizabeth Wyatt of Allington Castle, remaining there for the celebrations of Twelfth Night which I must report was passed with great merrymaking. Yet I know that as God is my witness, I could not settle nor be at peace knowing that your Majesty resides at so great a distance. I beseech you your Majesty, never to doubt that I shall ever vary in my great love and esteem for you whilst breath is in my body.
Written by the hand of her who is in heart, body and soul, your loyal and most assured servant.
Anne Boleyn
I could imagine Henry’s happiness and contentment at reading my letter. Hever was so far away from court gossip, intrigue and the political manoeuvring for power that it was easy to forget the jaws of peril into which I daily walked and bask only in the intimacy and love which blossomed between Henry and Anne.
The weeks passed with the weather daily improving, as we inched towards the burgeoning spring. We frequently exchanged tokens and letters of our love and affection, until in February, when spring was just around the corner, two important visitors arrived at Hever Castle with another message from the King.
Chapter Fourteen
Hever Castle,
February 3, 1528
By the beginning of February, the deep snow that had covered our little valley for over a month had entirely melted away. The perishing chill that unceasingly kept us in its grip had relented and given way to the dominant, warm, westerly blowing in from the Atlantic. With winter in full retreat, I took the opportunity to go out riding on my favourite new palfrey, a magnificent and proud white mare given to me by Henry as a New Year’s gift. I named her Starlight.
It was a blustery day with strong winds whipping about my skirts and snatching at the hem of my long, fur-lined cloak which stretched back over my horse’s hindquarters. I loved riding and walking out on windy days and I knew that Anne, like me, was a sensuous creature. I felt exhilarated in feeling the unseen hand of nature caressing my body and taking my breath away with her passionate kisses. I felt fully alive and tingling from the thrill of being at one with my mount, as we galloped through the woodland and across the meadows surrounding Hever. Nearing home, we slowed to a smooth, ambling gait, drinking in the windswept beauty of our surroundings on this burgeoning spring day.
As Starlight made her way along the little track back towards home, I suddenly caught sight of a small party of men on horseback arriving at the entrance to the castle, about half a mile ahead of me. I came to a halt, straining forward to see if I could make out the identity of our visitors. It was clear that they were men of note, probably from court, and they obviously travelled with purpose. Visitors were rare to our family home, so I urged my horse forward, sensing that this must be a message from Henry. By the time I arrived, the main party had already gone inside. Only a couple of grooms remained with the horses, leading them to the stables for food, water and rest. As I reigned in Starlight to a halt, one of our servants stepped forward and helped me dismount.
A few moments later, I was entering the castle and heard voices coming from the Great Hall; whilst around me, servants bustled backwards and forwards with the usual busyness that accompanied the arrival of any important visitor. I heard my mother’s strong and clear voice in dialogue with what sounded like two men in the room beyond, when suddenly Bess appeared by my side.
‘Who are these men?’ I asked quietly, as she laid my cloak across her arm and I handed her my riding gloves and crop.
‘I understand it is Drs. Stephen Gardiner and Edward Foxe come directly from court under orders from the King.’ Bess whispered excitedly underneath her breath.
‘What do they want here, Bess?’ I asked, somewhat confused by the possible nature of their business with us. As I spoke, I scoured both my memory of history, as well as my own recent dealings with the gentlemen of court, to see if I could remember any clues. It was Stephen Gardiner with whom I was most familiar at the time. In his role as Secretary to Wolsey, I watched him in dialogue many times with his master, and was also present on one or two occasions when Henry had reason to parley with him. Master Stevens, as he was commonly known at court, had impressed the King with his knowledge of both canon and civil law.
It was no secret that he was a devout Catholic and yet, much to my surprise, he seemed supportive of the King’s move to annul his marriage to Katherine; and was even irritated at times by the Queen’s increasing defiance of her Lord and Master. This had, of course, endeared Master Stevens into the King’s good graces and I wondered if it was in this capacity that he was now visiting Hever. However, my historical knowledge of Stephen was frustratingly patchy to say the least. I couldn’t remember where his loyalties lay, or his ultimate fate. However, I did know this much; he was an ambitious, wily and shrewd character who kept his own counsel. But, his Achilles heel was his irascibility, which, combined with his formidable intellect, made him a notoriously difficult man to deal with, and many at court kept their distance when they were able. Yet, Henry had recognised his intellectual brilliance and I noticed, even in a few short months, the King’s inclination to rely increasingly on Master Stevens’s council.
Edward Foxe, on the other hand, was the King’s almoner. I had only ever met this gentleman in passing, and I knew even less about him. I confess that I was most eager to find out more, so when I had undressed from my outer garments and straightened my velvet skirts, I made my way into the Great Hall. When I entered, it was lit by a large, roaring fire in front of which stood my mother talking with the two men, whose voices I had heard on entering the castle. Elizabeth Boleyn was facing the entrance to the Great Hall and when she noticed my arrival, immediately broke off her conversation to introduce me to our guests.
‘Ah, Anne! Good. You have arrived back from riding out. Dr Stephen Gardiner and Dr Edward Foxe have come directly from the King to see you with a message from His Grace.’ The man who I knew to be Stephen Gardiner was the first to step forward and I noticed that he carried a letter in his hand, which I surmised was a missive from the King. Inclining his head in a gracious bow, he introduced himself,
‘Mistress Anne, Dr Foxe and I have been most anxious to see you.’ He indicated towards his fellow travelling companion, as he too bowed courteously in my direction. I reciprocated by dipping a brief curtsey, before Master Stevens continued, ‘We are here as your humble servants, commanded by the King to deliver unto you this message written by His Majesty’s own hand.’ Gardiner handed me the crisp parchment, sealed as ever with red wax and embossed with the Royal coat of arms. As I broke open the seal, Master Stevens spoke, ‘His Grace commands me to convey his deepest desiring for your good health, Madame.’
‘I thank you most kindly for your great pains on my behalf.’ I smiled warmly at both gentlemen. ‘I pray grant me leave for a moment to read the King’s message, so I might better understand how I may serve you.’
‘Of course, Madame.’ As Master Stevens spoke, he gestured with his hand that I should continue reading, taking a step backwards as if to give me greater privacy to savour the words within. Unravelling the parchment, I eagerly read its contents:
To mine own sweetheart,
This letter shall be only to advertise to you that this bearer and his fellow be despatched with as many things to
compass our matter, and to bring it to pass as our wits could imagine or devise; which brought to pass, as I trust, by their diligence, it shall be shortly, you and I shall have our desired end, which should be more to my heart’s ease, and more quietness to my mind, than any other thing in the world; as, with God’s grace, shortly I trust shall be proved, but not so soon as I would it were; yet I will ensure you that there shall be no time lost that may be won, and further cannot be done; for ultra posse non est esse. Keep him not too long with you, but desire him, for your sake, to make the more speed; for the sooner we shall have word from him, the sooner shall our matter come to pass. And thus upon trust of your short repair to London, I make an end of my letter, my own sweet heart.
Written by the hand of he who desireth as much to be yours as you do to have him.
H. R.
I appraised Henry’s words, understanding immediately that the two doctors had been sent by Henry on Embassy, probably to the Pope, in his quest to seek an annulment of his marriage to Katherine. They had clearly been instructed to stop off at Hever and report on their mission to Anne on their way through to the Port of Dover. Yet, at the time, I did not understand from the letter the exact nature of their charge. Of course, I knew even then that they would be unsuccessful, but I was deeply inquisitive to find out more about their mission and, I must confess, about the two gentlemen that stood before me, and whether or not they could be trusted.
I had a voracious appetite to learn more about each character that appeared on the stage of Anne’s life. Many of the central characters I knew from my reading of history, their words and deeds dominating historical texts. But I was learning that those individuals who played supporting roles could be equally as colourful, or as deadly, in the manoeuvrings of the court, particularly if they were ignored or underestimated. Lethal enemies and unexpected friends would be found lurking in every corner.
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