At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn

by Barnhill, Anne Clinard

  “Oh my brother—my brilliant, funny brother—who could love life more than thou?” said the queen, collapsing once again.

  “If the king has willed them to die, die they shall,” said Madge, hatred burning in her ribs.

  * * *

  By the next day, everyone knew the queen was to be executed in three days, and that the king had sent for a special swordsman from Calais, an act of mercy. “So the queen will not suffer,” the king explained. His wish was that the execution be quick and relatively painless. Madge thought of the queen’s own words: He is ever good and kind to me.

  Thirty-eight

  In the few days that followed the execution of her brother and friends, the queen changed. Rather than giving in to hysterics, she seemed to have come to grips with her fate. Archbishop Cranmer visited with her several times and comforted her. Madge admired the way the queen regained her dignity. On the night before she was to die, Madge accompanied her into her bedchamber for the last time. She was going to rub her back once more, as she had done in happier days.

  “How does Your Majesty?” Madge whispered, not knowing if the queen wished conversation or not.

  “I am bound to die on the morrow. I have faced Death over and over since they brought me here. I believe I have made Him a friend. I no longer fear Him—I almost long for Him. When He takes me, I shall fly to heaven to be with the True King of all the heavens and the earth,” said the queen.

  “I am much aggrieved at what Cromwell and the king have done—I can scarce speak. There is no justice in this realm—they are … they are … murderers,” said Madge, tears rolling onto her cheeks. She swiped her arm across her face to wipe them away.

  “Hush, child. To speak such is treason, and there is still one among the ladies who is not my friend. I fear she reports all we say to Master Cromwell. So have a care,” said the queen.

  Madge rubbed the queen’s thin shoulders until all the knots were released. She was at a loss for words—what could she say to a woman who was going to be executed in the morning? How could she bring comfort?

  “I want you to promise me something, cousin,” said the queen.

  “Anything, Your Grace,” said Madge.

  “First, you must pledge your troth that you will look after my dearest daughter. She will be in great danger for all of her life, I fear. She carries the royal blood and there are those who would use her for their own ends. Swear to me that you will do all in your power to love and protect her,” said the queen, her face full of sorrow.

  “I swear it, Your Grace. Elizabeth will always be able to count on her kinsmen,” said Madge.

  “Now, one more promise—after it is … over tomorrow, you must leave court never to return. Your mother is riding to Great Snoring immediately after she is finished taking care of what is left of me. You must pledge to go with her,” said the queen.

  “But Your Majesty, I would wait for Arthur to return to London—we are planning to run away and be married in Surrey. We shall live at Guildford Palace with the duke,” said Madge.

  “The duke is too close to the king—he and his boy will not stay away from court for long. They are both ambitious. No, for you, dearest Margaret, I would wish a peaceful and happy life—a long life! Such as you will find at your home. I will insist on your promise,” said the queen.

  “Then you shall have it, Your Grace. I will do as you command,” said Madge.

  “I am hardly in any position to command, dearest! But I have asked for your word and you have given it,” said the queen.

  They sat in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Madge heard talking in the outer room.

  “Ah, the constable with his nightly elixir. Thanks be to God for it. Yes, come in, Sir Kingston. I will gladly swallow your poison,” said the queen, laughing.

  “Madame, there is no poison in what I have brought—just a sleep help,” said the constable.

  “You see, Margaret, Kingston likes not my humor! There, one for you as well, cousin. To the king’s health!” said the queen and quaffed hers down. Madge did the same. “Good night, sir—I will see you, no doubt, in the morning.”

  Kingston walked somberly out of the room and the queen looked at Madge. They both laughed.

  “He is the right man for the job,” said the queen. “He is as somber as Death itself.”

  Madge rose and mocked the way Kingston walked, much to the queen’s delight.

  Soon, Madge began to feel the effects of Kingston’s brew. Her eyes grew tired and her limbs heavy. She lay on the bare floor next to the queen’s bed.

  “Margaret, there is one more thing I would ask of you,” said the queen in a groggy voice.

  “Yes, Your Grace?” said Madge.

  “I would beg forgiveness for the vile sin I urged you to perform with the king. And for the unkind way in which I treated you, after you had done as I asked. I have begged God’s forgiveness and know that my soul is pure from His generous mercy, but I would have your mercy as well,” said the queen. The queen reached out for Madge’s hand.

  “I forgive Your Majesty with all my heart,” said Madge, unable to stop the catch in her voice.

  * * *

  The execution was to take place at nine A.M. However, Kingston came early to tell the queen that the swordsman had been delayed and would not arrive until noon.

  “I am sorry to bring you this delay, madame. But they say he is an excellent swordsman,” said Kingston.

  “So I have heard—and I have but a little neck,” said the queen, ringing her fingers around her neck and laughing.

  The constable seemed flustered and made a quick retreat.

  “They shall soon call me Queen Lack-a-Head!” said the queen, still laughing, trying to cheer her ladies.

  With yet more time to wait, the queen returned to her prayers and the ladies sat quietly in the outer room. As the hours passed, the tension grew until Madge could no longer stand it. She was about to go into the queen’s room when the constable entered once more. He went in to see the queen and Madge followed.

  “Madame, I regret to tell you that the swordsman is still delayed. We will put off the execution until tomorrow morning,” said Kingston.

  “I am sorry to hear it, sir. I had hoped, by now, to be past my pain,” said the queen.

  Madge asked the queen if she wanted company but the queen declined. Later that day, Archbishop Cranmer came to hear her last confession. She called Kingston in to witness it. In front of all her ladies and the two men, she confessed her innocence before God. She then received the Sacrament. She and the archbishop remained together for most of the afternoon. Thankfully, that evening, Kingston came again with his sleeping potion. Madge drank hers quickly, eager for escape from the torture they all endured.

  The next morning was sunny and bright. Though the sound of the scaffold being hastily constructed had been bothersome for the past two nights, Kingston’s potion had helped drown out the hammering. But now, the structure was complete.

  The constable brought a hearty breakfast of which the queen ate a generous portion.

  “I might as well enjoy what Kingston has brought—I will not eat again,” said the queen. Madge could not force a bite down her throat. After her repast, the queen asked Madge and her mother to help her get dressed.

  “I shall wear the gray damask gown with the crimson petticoat. And the ermine mantel over it. We shall put my hair in this linen cap so the tresses will not impede the sword. And I shall wear my English gable hood over the cap,” said the queen. Madge combed the queen’s long hair for the last time, her tears dropping onto the locks as she fit them into the embroidered cap. Lady Shelton helped the queen into her gown and laid the mantel across her shoulders.

  “Majesty, you look beautiful,” said Madge, still sniffling.

  “It is my soul which must be pleasing now, dearest. I would please God above all else,” said the queen. “Remember your promise—take care of Elizabeth and leave this den of iniquity.”

  “I
shall, Majesty—you have my solemn word on it. I do love you so,” said Madge, embracing the queen, unable to staunch her tears. The other ladies were crying, too.

  “Take heart, friends. I shall be in heaven soon,” said the queen.

  At that moment, Kingston knocked on the door. He entered.

  “Madame, the time is come,” he said, offering her his arm.

  “Thank you, Master Kingston. And God’s blessing on you,” she said as she stepped into the sunlight, followed by her ladies. Madge and her mother were the last. Slowly and with great dignity, they walked toward the scaffold, which had been draped in black material. Fresh straw had been strewn over the stage to catch the blood. Rather than execute the queen in public view, as Cromwell had planned originally, the king commanded she be killed on the Tower green with fewer people in attendance. It was said that the king feared what Anne might say on the scaffold, and he was anxious about the reaction of the crowd to the execution of a woman.

  As the queen climbed the steps to the scaffold, followed by Madge, Lady Shelton, and Margaret Wyatt, the swordsman was already standing on the stage in view of the witnesses to the queen’s execution. Madge looked out into the crowd. She saw Cromwell and the king’s son, Henry Fitzroy, duke of Richmond. Then she gasped as she saw the steely face of the duke of Suffolk. Brandon glanced at Madge and turned his head.

  The queen mounted the platform and a great silence fell on the crowd. The queen spoke out in a strong, calm voice:

  “Good Christian people, I have not come here to preach a sermon; I have come here to die, for according to the law and by the law, I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak of that whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never, and to me he was ever a good, a gentle, and sovereign lord.

  “And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me.”

  Madge watched as the queen then stepped back and Lady Lee, Wyatt’s sister, removed her headdress. Her pearls and her Book of Hours she handed to Lady Lee. She looked at Madge, motioned her forward, and embraced her. Madge felt her place two rings into her hand and a small locket. Madge held her close, breathing in her fragrance, feeling once more the delicacy of her bones. When the queen released Madge, Anne stared directly into Madge’s eyes and whispered, “Remember your promise, dear cousin—and remember me to my darling Elizabeth.” Then, Her Majesty turned to the French swordsman and forgave her executioner. She placed a sack of gold coins into his hands, paying him for his work.

  At that moment, the queen sank to her knees to await the blow, all the while saying, “To Jesus Christ, I commend my spirit. Lord, have mercy on me. Lord Jesu, receive my soul.” Madge heard her repeat the words until the swordsman called for his sword, a ruse so that the queen would not look behind her. He smote off her head in one blow, then held the head up by the hair to show the crowd. Madge thought she could see the queen’s lips still moving as he held the head aloft.

  The cannon fired three times and Madge felt the vibration in her belly. She felt she would be sick at the sight of the queen’s blood and bits of bone and gore smeared across the platform and spattering those who stood closest to the front. She watched as they wiped the queen’s good blood from their faces with white handkerchiefs. It had happened so quickly, after all the long hours of waiting. Now, it was over and Madge knew the queen was in the hands of God even at that moment. She did not cry but moved to the business at hand—her last service for her queen.

  The crowd began to disperse.

  “Shall we tend to her body now?” asked Lady Lee.

  “No. Let us wait until all have left. We will then give her the tender care she deserves without the prying eyes of the onlookers,” said Madge.

  As the people slowly left the scene of the execution, Madge saw a familiar shape make its way to her.

  “Oh Maddie! My heart is sore broken. She died with such courage,” said Cate, hugging her friend.

  “She died well—that is true. But I shall never heal this wound in my heart—though I know she is now in heaven,” said Madge, bursting into tears at the sight of her nurse.

  “No, our hearts will wear this scar forever. But surely, we will know joy again someday,” said Cate.

  “Only seeing Arthur could ease my pain. But he is not here. And I cannot wait for him. I promised the queen to go to Great Snoring with my mother this very day. Her Majesty had fears that the king’s killing spree might not be over. I fear as much myself,” said Madge.

  “Master Brandon should be here! Only a great coward would stay away from you at such a time,” said Cate.

  “Arthur is no coward—I do not know why he has not come. I shall be at your room as soon as we are finished here to pack what clothes I can. And you pack your things, too, dearest Cate, for you must come home with us,” said Madge.

  “I have been waiting to hear those words, Maddie-girl. And ’tis like music!” said Cate, hurrying off. “I shall be ready—have a care, Maddie. Danger still lurks near.”

  The stands had emptied and only the queen’s ladies remained. Madge and the others tended to the queen’s body, wrapping it in white cloth and placing it in an arrow chest, as the king had not provided any sort of coffin. The chest was not long enough to replace the queen’s head onto her shoulders so they tucked the bloody parcel in the queen’s arms.

  “I cannot believe our charming Queen Anne has come to this,” said Lady Shelton. “I remember her as a child—bright, happy, so very smart. Oh, this is too gruesome an end for such as she.” Madge held her mother as she cried softly.

  “Come, come. Let us bury her so she can be at rest,” said Mrs. Orchard, Anne’s nurse from childhood who had been brought to her on her last night. They struggled to carry the body to the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, the same place the guards had taken her brother. They lay the queen beside George in an open grave and Madge thought it a comfort that brother and sister would be together for eternity.

  * * *

  “Hurry child—we must leave at once!” said Lady Shelton to Madge after they had finished their business with the queen.

  “I am to meet Cate in her room—she is packing our things. Where shall we meet you?” said Madge, fear mixing with anger in her bosom.

  “I shall be at the east gate. And Margaret, let no one see you. We can hope that the king is busy elsewhere and our danger is less than it was. But no need to remind His Majesty that we are the queen’s dear family,” said Lady Shelton.

  “I shall take the greatest care, Mother. Have no fear,” said Madge as she kissed her mother’s cheek, which was still wet with tears.

  Madge took the easiest way to Cate’s rooms, remembering with each step her first time to Hampton Palace, how clumsy she felt, how out of place. Now, the rooms were familiar and felt like home—except the heart of that home no longer beat. The palace was oddly empty. All the queen’s ladies had been dismissed and Madge was surprised to see her gold plate had been cleared out, as well as her gowns and jewels. Madge felt in the pocket of her petticote for the rings and locket, thanking the queen silently that Her Majesty had thought to give her a remembrance. She shook her head to clear the threatening tears from her eyes.

  She made her way quickly to Cate’s room and opened the door without knocking.

  “You scared the life out of me! Methought you were a guard come to get me!” said Cate, whose face had blanched. Even Shadow seemed terrified for, rather than jump into Madge’s arms, she cowered behind Cate’s pallet.

  “I am sorry, dear. The castle is so empty of people, I thought you would know ’twas I,” said Madge, going over to Shadow to lure her out.

  “I have packed all your gowns—I thought you would not wish to leave them,” said Cate as she pointed to an eno
rmous chest.

  “Dearest, we are running for our lives—I fear that trunk would be far too heavy for us to carry. And remember, we do not have His Majesty’s permission to leave court. We are escaping! Let us bundle up a few things and be on our way,” said Madge.

  “I so hate for your to leave these exquisite gowns—you are unlikely to ever have anything so fine,” said Cate.

  “I care nothing for them—they remind me of all the greed and ambition here at court. I am happy to leave it all behind. If only I could get word to Arthur or at least know why he has not come to me,” said Madge.

  “That I do know, Maddie,” said Cate.

  “How could you know such a thing? Tell me—tell me all!” said Madge.

  “After I left you, I went in search of Suffolk—I had seen him at the queen’s execution and I would speak with him,” said Cate.

  “Mad, mad woman! To take such a chance!” said Madge.

  “I felt I had enough to do with His Grace that he would speak with me … and he did. He told me your Master Brandon had been hot to come to you the minute they got word the queen had been taken. But the duke refused him. It seems Master Brandon raised his hand against his father and the duke had him bound and stowed under guard at Guildford Palace. He is under guard still and will remain so until the duke is convinced the young man will no longer pursue you,” said Cate.

  “But why? Why is the duke against me? Arthur is merely his natural son…” said Madge.

  “The duke said even a son born on the wrong side of the bed was above a wench that came from a disgraced family, with a cousin who was the biggest whore in Christendom,” said Cate.

  “Damn him. So now, Arthur is too good for me! How the world has turned upside down!” said Madge. “Now my heart is doubly broken—I have lost my queen and dear friend—and my own true love!” Madge found she had no more tears but felt a heaviness settle around her heart.