Dear Heart, How Like You This (43 page)
“Boleyn you mean? Why, Sir Wyatt, I believe he too awaits the tide which will take him and his sister to the Tower.”
I began to feel dizzy with all the fears bounding in my head.
“But, whatever for? The Queen has done nothing wrong. As is true of Lord George. My cousin is loyal to the King.”
The Duke laughed; it was an ugly laugh—more than that, it was an evil laugh.
“Loyal? Loyal to the King, hey, Wyatt? Funny sort of loyalty I would call it which has this so called
Lord
rutting between the Queen’s legs.”
I felt my mouth open in shock. I moved towards the Duke and said: “You are mad—mad! Lord Boleyn and the Queen are brother and sister. ’Tis plain evil what you dare suggest!”
The Duke now arose from his chair, standing upright in anger.
“You forget yourself, Wyatt. Remember, knight, that you speak to a Prince of the land. Yea, George Boleyn committed incest with his sister, our so-called Queen. Now, what of you, Sir Wyatt—what of you?”
I chose to ignore his question, and return to what we spoke just seconds before.
“But ’tis not true! I tell you, your Grace! ’Tis simply not true! My cousin, the Lord Boleyn, and her Grace the Queen are brother and sister, bound through love and honour only.”
“Honour?” the Duke grunted and barked out a short laugh. “Anne, soon to be Queen of nothing, knows nothing of honour. Rather she is a bitch in heat who allowed the whole pack around her to service her until she was red and raw.”
I moved even closer to the Duke, so angry was I now that I could easily have grabbed him and tossed him to the ground. Just as I had done years ago, not realising who he was, but this time with more deadly intent.
“How dare you speak like that of Anna!”
“Oh, ’tis
Anna
, say you Wyatt?” The Duke taunted, speaking slow and soft.
“Now tell me, knight, were you one of the pack that serviced the great whore’s lust?”
I just stood there, staring at the Duke, thinking what would happen if they found out about that day so long ago. Surely that would make all these lies now seem true. At last, I regained hold on my trembling emotions and, remembering what truth George had spoken but days ago, said to the Duke: “I perceive, my Grace, that truth no longer means anything. That it is falsehood upon falsehood that now determines our destiny. Tell me, your Grace, are you enjoying all this? Has your need for revenge now been satisfied?”
Suddenly, without realising how I came to this knowledge, it had come to me the Duke’s enjoyment of this day’s events was deeply rooted in a time long since passed.
A door opened in my mind and I saw, as if I had indeed seen them with my own two eyes, a frightened youth and near-to-fainting girl facing an angry man who held a sword pointed at the boy as if to plunge. But it was now (so many years later that I had almost forgot) that the Duke’s weapon, more painful than that long ago sword, which had its existence only in the physical world, was plunged deep within my very spirit. The Duke’s next words affirmed what I forthwith believed.
“Not quite, Wyatt, not quite. I did not enjoy being denied my pleasure that day long ago. Nor did I enjoy being shoved by you to the ground like a lowly menial. If the King had not fancied himself in love for the first time in his life, I am sure I would not have had to wait as long as I have waited to see that slut brought down low. Now what to do with you? What to do with you.”
All of a sudden he went to the next room and yelled: “Guard!”
With the result that a guard suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and stood to attention, awaiting his command.
The Duke now moved away from me, saying to the guard: “This man is under arrest. Take him to my captain and say that he is to be taken to the Tower as soon as the tides permit.”
I gave one last, lingering look at the Duke, trying to say with my eyes that he broke me not. But then the guard pulled at my arm, and began to lead me away. Thus, that night, in the closing hours of the second day of May, I was ferried to the Tower.
Sir,
Your grace’s displeasure, and my imprisonment, are things so strange unto me, as what to write, or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant. Whereas you send unto me (willing me to confess a truth, and so obtain your favour) by such a one whom you know to be mine ancient and professed enemy: I no sooner received this message by him, than I rightly conceived your meaning; and if, as you say, confessing a truth indeed may procure my safety, I shall with all willingness and duty perform your command.
But let not your grace ever imagine that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault, where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have found in Anne Boleyn, with which name and place could willingly have contented myself, if God, and your grace’s pleasure had been so pleased. Neither did I at any time so far forget myself in my exaltation, or received queenship, but that I always looked for such an alteration as now I find; for the ground of my preferment being on no surer foundation than your grace’s fancy, the least alteration, I knew, was fit and sufficient to draw that fancy to some other subject. You have chosen me, from a low estate, to be your queen and companion, far beyond my desert or desire. If then you found me worthy of such honour, good your grace, let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess your daughter: try me, good king, but let me have a lawful trial, and let not my sworn enemies sit as my accusers and judges; yea, let me receive an open trial, for my truth shall fear no open shame; then shall you see, either mine innocency cleared, your suspicion and conscience satisfied, the ignominy and slander of the world stopped, or my guilt openly declared. So that whatsoever God or you may determine of me, your grace may be freed from an open censure; and mine offence being so lawfully proved, your grace is at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unlawful wife, but to follow your affection already settled on that party, for whose sake I am now as I am, whose name I could some good while since have pointed unto: your grace being not ignorant of my suspicion therein.
But if you have already determined of me, and that not only my death, but an infamous slander must bring you the enjoying of your desired happiness; then I desire of God, that he will pardon your great sin therein, and likewise mine enemies, the instruments thereof: and that he will not call you to a strict account for your unprincely and cruel usage of me, at his general judgment-seat, where both you and myself must shortly appear, and in whose judgment, I doubt not (whatsoever the world may think of me), mine innocence shall be openly known, and sufficiently cleared.
My last and only request shall be, that myself may only bear the burthen of your grace’s displeasure, and that it may not touch the innocent souls of those poor gentlemen, who, as I understand, are likewise in straight imprisonment for my sake. If ever I have found favour in your sight; if ever the name of Anne Boleyn hath been pleasing to your ears, then let me obtain this request; and I will so leave to trouble your grace any further, with mine earnest prayers to the Trinity to have your grace in his good keeping, and to direct you in all your actions.
From my doleful Prison, the Tower, this 6th of May.
Your most Loyal and ever Faithful Wife,
Anne Boleyn
“Commend me to his Majesty and tell him that he hath ever been constant in his career of advancing me, from private gentlewoman he made me Marchioness, from Marchioness a Queen and now that hath left no higher degree of honour he gives my innocency the crown of martyrdom.”
My last experience of the Tower had been shared by both Anne and George; a time of celebration (
Celebration? Rather the final build-up to all our heartbreaks!
) when Anne was crowned Queen. This time I was rowed underneath Traitor’s Gate, and taken without ceremony to a small cell in Bell’s Tower. This time I was a prisoner, rather than a feted guest of the King. After they had closed the door on me, I sat upon the only piece of furniture—a sagging bed cot, which had clearly seen better days—and tried desperately to banish my feelings of panic. I was not so much worried for myself. In recent years my relationship with Anne had been as discreet and circumspect as I could make it—for the protection of my battered heart if for no other reason. Of course I was her kinsman, thus was granted greater familiarity than the average courtier… but since that day in July, almost eight years ago, I had been rarely left alone with her.
These thoughts led me to think how they could accuse George. Yea, he was often in her company; with both their marriages failures they often sought the support and comfort of the other. I thought them closer than any other time in their lives.
But incest?
I never realised that evil was such a thing that one could touch, but the very thought of that hideous accusation made me almost feel I could reach out and hold evil in my hands. I wondered if Anne knew. Oh, God, if she knew that George was thus accused, she would completely give up on herself and lose herself in hysteria.
My thoughts kept me from any sleep that night, though the discomfort of my surroundings also did not encourage any attempts at rest. The worst thing was that I remained alone with my imagination. All through the night, I fought to control its dark conjurings, becoming darker and darker as the hours slowly moved toward dawn. Thus, I felt totally exhausted and even more fearful when the first rays of dawn finally broke through my prison window.
I found to my great surprise that when imprisoned in the Tower you are not unaware of all that is happening without and within its walls. For certes, a prisoner gets to hear so many, different things. Tower guards almost made it a part of their daily job to keep their “guests” informed (or tormented!) about all that was happening in the outside the world; as well as what was happening to those in the Tower.
I had heard from the guards who brought in my meals, men who took great pleasure to convey to me this type of information, that Anna’s courage had completely deserted her when she had arrived at Traitor’s Gate. My poor girl! When she saw Traitor’s Gate looming before her, Anna had crumbled to her knees, crying out to God and all who could hear her that she was innocent.
The guards also told me how Anna feared the King meant for her to be shut away in some dark, rat-infested dungeon. However, the Tower’s Constable, Master Kingston, the same man who had welcomed her three years before in happier circumstances, was able to assure her that she would be housed in the same apartments that Anne had used during her coronation.
Yea, the guards kept me informed daily of everything that was happening to my poor Anna. And if I did not have these sources of information provided by the guards, there was also the information provided by my own father.