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ANNE WAS RECOVERING from sweating sickness, which had taken her away from court at last. She had never been so ill in her life and even there, Henry would not leave her in peace to rest. He had to write several times a week, had to send his emissaries to see how she fared, and at times she wished herself dead.
Nobody knew that she still corresponded with Harry Percy and if the King found out, it would likely be the end of Harry. She hoped that this time away from Henry might make him realise he could do without her, that he need not alienate the country by divorcing his lawful Queen. She wondered, too, if the country would ever forgive her for being the focus of their King’s ardour, for being his obsession. The lies that were told about her distressed her terribly, but she could do nothing to challenge them.
People said she was scheming to get her hands on the crown. It was rumoured that she denied the King, refused to satisfy his lust in order to increase his desire, but that was not it, not at all.
The fact was she did not want him, had never wanted him. She found him unattractive, but although she had told him many truths that no other would have dared to tell him, that was one truth too far. Even she dared not tell him that he was not the handsome young man he had been when he succeeded to the throne.
Now she was forced to serve the Queen who hated her and Princess Mary who also hated her. But it had lasted for years and she could not persuade the King that she would be happier if he allowed her to marry and have a normal life.
When she told him she would go chastely to her husband, that she would not give herself to any man outside of marriage, he had assumed she wanted marriage to him. He was so vain, he believed every woman he met fell instantly in love with him. He could never imagine that most of them complied because he was the King and they were afraid to refuse him. Anne was the first one he had met who was not afraid, and not scared to voice her thoughts.
But now she was recovering from her illness and the King wanted her back at court. It seemed there was no escape.
Her latest letter from Harry told her that he and his wife had parted, never to see each again and that made her sad. She had wanted nothing but happiness for Harry, even though she longed for him with every waking thought, and it grieved her that his marriage was unhappy and that she was the cause.
Now the King had taken an unbelievable step; he had started proceedings to divorce Queen Katherine. Anne could hold him at bay no longer; she had tried to tell him she did not want him, but the words never would come out as intended. Always there was the ultimate excuse, that he was a married man and she, Anne, would not give herself outside of marriage, especially not to a married man.
She would have to return to court, she would have to persuade him, but to tell him the truth would be a death sentence. Either that, or he would refuse to believe her.
It seemed to Anne that she was trapped and there was no way out. Harry belonged to another, and now it was dangerous for her to keep up their correspondence. She had to write that last letter, had to tell him she could write no more.
And she would have to comply with the King’s wishes. She did not want to give in to him, to let him have his way with her and perhaps get her with child and discard her like the others. And then, if he released her and allowed her to marry someone, she would not be able to go to her husband a virgin, and that was something that was very important to her.
There was only one thing to do. She would have to pretend to want this as much as he did and hope that divorcing Katherine proved to be the impossibility she hoped it would.
***
MARY HAD GONE AND THE castle seemed strangely empty without her. Not that Harry missed her in the way that he still missed Anne, but he had not yet had time to grow accustomed to not having to worry about her sudden appearance, about the resentment that appearance brought to him. The glares across the table at dinner, the concern that he would never have an heir to the Northumberland title and estates. He was on bad terms with both his brothers and would be sure to avoid leaving the title to either one of them.
He also never appreciated how much Mary did until servants came to him with questions and requests for instructions that should come from the Countess. Harry would never have thought that sending Mary away would double his workload, but at least she would not be spying on him any more.
That was when he received the letter. His heart sang as it always did when he saw her seal and he ripped it open, longing to just read her words, even though they had nothing new to impart. But she would write that she loved him still, that she hoped one day the King would grow tired and he might be able to free himself from Mary through an annulment.
But they were all empty dreams and deep down they both knew it. This letter killed those dreams, this letter told him firmly that he had been fooling himself all these years.
She said she would not be able to write to him again. She told him of the King’s plans to divorce the Queen and marry her and that it would be too dangerous for them both to keep up their correspondence.
That correspondence was all he had left of the love of his life and she was telling him he was about to lose it. Harry felt like crying.
***
BACK AT COURT, ANNE felt herself out of place. Things had changed since her illness, people looked at her differently and a few people asked her to intervene with the King on various matters. That was new and not something in which she wanted to involve herself. She still hoped to be free of him, not immerse herself even more in his affections. She would ask for nothing, so he would have nothing with which to reproach her when the time came.
But back in the Queen’s household, several of the other maids of honour gave her evil looks and the Queen herself glared at her. She asked nothing of her so that Anne felt no more real than one of the statues about the place.
Henry came to her apartment at the first opportunity, his smile one of delight to have her back and fully recovered. He held out his arms to her, but she did not move into them. He seemed not to notice as he pulled her toward him and kissed her. Neither did he notice the grimace as she smelled his breath.
“Sweetheart,” he said. “I have missed you so. And I need your counsel. I have finally realised what God has been telling me all this time.”
“And what is that, Your Grace?”
“That my marriage to Katherine was never a true one, never lawful. She was my brother’s widow and marrying her was against God’s law; it says so clearly enough in the Bible.”
“The Bible has not changed, has it?” she said bitterly. “It had the same rule then, when you married Katherine?”
“It did and the Pope should never have given me a dispensation to marry her. It was his fault.”
Of course, it would be anyone’s fault but not his, not Henry’s.
“But he did give that dispensation. Therefore, your marriage was lawful.”
“Do you not see, sweetheart?” he insisted. “It is the reason I have one useless girl and nothing but dead boys. God is telling me it is because I went against Him, because I defied His law.”
“Henry, think carefully about this. You are like a child who has never been refused anything and now, because you have found something you cannot have, you must have it no matter what.”
He stepped back, pushed her roughly away.
“How dare you! You speak to your King that way?”
“Did you not tell me once that when you are with me you are not a King, but a man like any other?”
“I did, but still it was a cruel thing to say.”
“It was the truth.”
He slowly shook his head, turned away and was silent for a few minutes. Then he turned back to her, his smile in place once more.
“I know what you are doing, Anne,” he said. “You are so warm and caring, you are trying to protect Katherine. Is that not it?”
“Protect Katherine? Yes, I would like to protect Katherine. She has been a good and faithful wife to you and now you would discard her when she is inconvenient. How do I know you’ll not do the same to me?”
“It is different with you. I never loved Katherine.”
“You did.”
“Not as I love you. I would never betray you.”
“You will do as you wish, Sire,” she said. “I can say nothing that will dissuade you.”
He failed to notice the defeat in her voice.
***
SO IT BEGAN. CARDINAL Wolsey assembled a jury of churchmen and nobles to try the case of the King’s marriage, whether it be lawful, and Henry hoped for a speedy outcome in his favour.
He declared before the court that his marriage was an abomination, against God’s law, that the Almighty was telling him clearly His will, by denying him healthy sons.
Anne knew that was untrue, that had Katherine given him an heir he would never have considered such a thing, and she listened intently, praying the eminent jurors would not be fooled by such a plea. But it seemed to her that everyone was listening too intently.
Anne listened, hidden in an alcove, and smiled. This man who had pursued her, this man who would cause a scandal throughout Christendom and risk his own soul for her, could persuade himself that black was white if such was to his advantage.
After weeks of deliberation, the court decided they could give no verdict and Cardinal Wolsey declared it was beyond his learning to give one either. He would send to Rome for instructions; the Pope must decide.
Henry was enraged. He came to Anne’s apartment, poured himself wine and turned to her while she hid her face, hoping he would not notice her complacency.
“I am the King of England!” he shouted. “When I pray, God answers and He has told me what I must do. How dare they think the Pope’s word takes precedence over God’s!”
“But Henry, the Pope is the head of the Church. He must decide what is right, surely. He is the authority on God’s law.”
“God is the authority on God’s law.” He sat beside her, took her hand. “Forgive me, Anne. I know this is as hard for you as it is for me.”
No! No it is not hard for me!
“Henry,” she said soothingly, “perhaps this outcome is God’s way of telling you our love is not to be.”
“What are you saying?” He caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately. “We will be together! I have sworn to make you my queen and I shall keep that promise. To hell with the Pope. Who is he to tell the King of England what to do?”
She pulled his head to her and stroked his hair, sighed resignedly. She knew then, knew that he would have his own way eventually, no matter how long it took, no matter how many lives he trampled on to get there.
And once he had achieved his goal, what would become of that goal? What would become of Anne?
***
THE PAPAL LEGATE CAME at last, after months of waiting, to begin a new trial to decide whether King Henry’s marriage to Queen Katherine was lawful or not.
Cardinal Campeggio arrived in London just before Yuletide, sent by the Pope at the request of Cardinal Wolsey, who had been unable to try the case himself.
The Italian Cardinal was ancient and the long journey had been a deterrent to his health. The court could not sit until after the Christmas festivities and holy days, then the Cardinal was sent to Katherine, to advise her that her best option would be to retreat to a convent.
He was shocked when she refused.
“I am a married woman,” she protested. “I will remain a married woman.”
Then she produced the dispensation given by Pope Julius II which allowed her marriage to take place. She had sworn before God that her marriage to Prince Arthur, Henry’s brother, had not been consummated and that had suited Henry at the time. Now he wanted to be rid of her, he produced witnesses to remember Arthur’s boasting, the morning after his wedding night, when he declared himself thirsty because he had spent the night ‘deep inside Spain’.
Arthur was fifteen and embarrassed that he had been unable to perform his marital duty, but rather than admit that, he boasted of the opposite.
This bragging was also dismissed as such when Henry wanted to marry his widow; now he wanted rid of her, so that he could marry Anne, he decided to believe his late brother’s words.
It was June before the trial began, as Cardinal Campeggio delayed at every turn and when the King discovered that he did not have the full authority of the Pope after all, he was infuriated.
The atmosphere inside the court was filled with tension and gloom. The parties involved showed little emotion, but it was apparent that they were both tense and for different reasons.
Henry wanted only to obtain his divorce, to be told that he was right, God was telling him he had committed a terrible sin by marrying his brother’s widow. But all the time he knew well his real reasons for wanting to be rid of Katherine; he wanted Anne Boleyn and she would accept nothing less than marriage. He also wanted a son, which Katherine could no longer give him. Which of these was the more important to Henry, it was difficult to tell, but it was a fact that the Tudor dynasty was too new to survive without a direct heir to the throne.
If anyone doubted that Henry’s stated reason for this hearing, at the specially convened Legatine court at Blackfriars, was genuine, they would never voice their doubts. What they did know was that the outcome of this hearing could change their own lives forever, for if a King could discard a faithful and blameless Queen, a princess of Spain, it set a precedent for the future of the crown.
What they did not know was that the Pope had received, anonymously, letters written by King Henry to Mistress Anne Boleyn. They gave the lie to the pretence that his need for an annulment was God’s will. The Cardinal from Rome had no idea who had sent them, but he intended to keep the knowledge of them to himself.
Henry addressed the court, first declaring his love for Katherine and his sorrow at having to take this step, but take it he must, for he had disobeyed God’s law by marrying her and he had been punished for that disobedience by the birth of dead and dying sons.
Next, Katherine was called upon to give her statement and, instead of standing and stating her case, she walk rapidly to where the King sat and sank down onto her knees on the stone floor.
“Sir, I beseech you for all the love that has been between us, and for the love of God, let me have justice. Take of me some pity and compassion, for I am a poor woman, and a stranger born out of your dominion. I have here no assured friends, and much less impartial counsel...
“Alas! Sir, wherein have I offended you, or what occasion of displeasure have I deserved? I have been to you a true, humble and obedient wife, ever comfortable to your will and pleasure, that never said or did anything to the contrary thereof, being always well pleased and contented with all things wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whether it were in little or much. I never grudged in word or countenance, or showed a visage or spark of discontent. I loved all those whom you loved, only for your sake, whether I had cause or no, and whether they were my friends or enemies. This twenty years or more I have been your true wife and by me you have had many children, although it has pleased God to call them out of this world, which has been no fault of mine.
“When you had me at first, I take God to my judge, I was a true maid, without touch of man. And whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience. If there be any just cause by the law that you can allege against me either of dishonesty or any other impediment to banish and put me from you, I am well content to depart to my great shame and dishonour. And if there be none, then here, I most lowly beseech you, let me remain in my former estate. Therefore, I most humbly require you, in the way of charity and for the love of God – who is the just judge – to spare me the extremity of this new court, until I may be advised what way and order my friends in Spain will advise me to take. And if ye will not extend to me so much impartial favour, your pleasure then be fulfilled, and to God I commit my cause!”
While she spoke, Henry tried on several occasions to lift her to her feet, but she resisted with all her strength and stayed on her knees. But when she had said her piece, she got up and walked out of court, ignoring every summons to return.
“It is no impartial court for me, therefore I will not tarry. Go on,” she ordered those who called her back. “I commend my case to God.”
The King was enraged, not only because of Katherine’s words, but because she had mentioned her friends in Spain, as though they had any authority over the law of England.
Henry was questioned as to the Queen’s plea and he agreed with everything she had said, but he insisted that it was his conscience and God’s will that brought him here. He told them all that were it not for that, he would never want to part from Katherine, whom he loved dearly.
Anne listened to the proceedings, hidden behind a curtain, and she smiled. Her admiration for Katherine had always been great, but now it soared. The Queen left her husband, the King, bewildered and enraged, as he had no means to recall her. He had been made a fool of and he would have his revenge.
Anne prayed that this would be the end of it, that he would now give up the fight and allow her to leave. Her prayers went unanswered.
Henry allowed himself a few days to control his temper before he visited Katherine. Her ladies dropped into deep curtsies when he appeared; it had been a very long time since he had been seen in his wife’s chambers.
His eyes lingered on Anne, but he made no indication that there was anything more intimate between them. He liked to tell himself it was a secret, although the whole country knew of his wishes for her.
He waved his hand to dismiss them all, then turned to Katherine, who had knelt when he entered and now stayed on her knees. He stepped forward, took her arms and lifted her gently to her feet.
“Henry,” she said, catching his hand and kissing it. “You are here as my husband?”
“No, My Lady,” he replied harshly. “I am here as your King. Your recent display has done you no favours, only made me more convinced of the sinfulness of our union.” He paused, pulled his hand away from her. “Do you not see that I am right? How else can you explain your failure to provide an heir?”
Katherine could think of many reasons why God might be angry with them, not least of which was Henry’s infidelity and Katherine’s acceptance of that infidelity. There was also his insistence that every thought that entered his kingly head, had to come directly from God himself. But she voiced none of those.
“I am but a feeble woman,” she said. “I have given you my love; is it my fault that God has taken my sons?”
“Yes, Katherine, it is your fault,” he replied. “It is both our faults. We must separate; our marriage was never lawful.”
“It was lawful and you know it.”
“No, I do not. This court is taking too long and all that time is wasted, when we could be putting our lives in order to please God. I want you to agree to an annulment.”
“And make our daughter a bastard?”
“If you do not do as I say, you will never see your daughter again,” said Henry. “I shall make sure of that.”
He left her then, left her astonished and hurt that this man, whom she had loved for most of her life, would keep her apart from the only person left to her to love.
With an ache in her heart, she remembered those twenty years of happy marriage, those nights when he had come to her bedchamber and loved her, held her close in his arms and kissed her lips. And it was not only for the making of a son; it was with real love that he did those things, but it was pointless to torture herself with those memories. Now she had to be strong and determined, for the sake of her daughter.
She could scarce believe he would do that to Mary, make her a bastard, deprive her of her place in the line of succession to the throne. But that was what he was doing, by trying to establish that their marriage was unlawful. He had made much of Mary; he had made her Princess of Wales in her own right, something that had never been done before, he had sought for her a betrothal to the finest princes in Europe, and now he would declare her a bastard, a nothing, no better than Bessie Blount’s son, worse even, since he was a boy and Henry had given him a grand title.
Katherine would not give in to his demands. She knew the truth and it had nothing to do with his conscience; she and Mary were to suffer to satisfy the King’s lust. She was a daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, those great Catholic princes, and she would not allow it. She would fight him with her last breath, but deep down she could not believe that he meant what he said. She was wrong.
The following day, the King ordered that Katherine be removed from court. She was no longer the Queen, he said. She was the Dowager Princess of Wales, widow of Prince Arthur Tudor, and her child, Mary, was a bastard.
The suitors who had pursued Princess Mary’s hand in marriage fell away, as they had no wish to be married to a royal bastard.