The Lady in the Tower (42 page)

In time this method produced the required result, and the petition was dispatched to Rome, where it lay neglected for some time.

I could not see why Henry and I should not be married as the divines had declared the marriage to Katharine invalid. Why should we wait for the sanction of the Pope? Was not the reason for this that we should act without him?

But Henry's fear was not so much of the Pope as of the Emperor Charles. If he were faced with war through this matter, he would have lost the love of his people.

He was torn between his inclinations as a man and a king.

So the weary waiting went on.

I was getting very tired of it all, and sometimes I thought with yearning of Hever. But how long would the peace of the countryside keep me happy? I had tasted power. I wanted power. I wanted adulation, grandeur and all the accoutrements of royalty. It was to be my consolation for losing the love and marriage which I had planned. Looking back now, I believe I romanticized my relationship with Henry Percy. I had made it into an ideal. Would our marriage—if it had taken place—have been like that? Should I have tired of that windswept castle? Would I have found Percy's gentleness insipid? On the other hand, here before me was grandeur such as, in those days, I could never have imagined would be mine. The King adored me; he would set me up beside him. I was different from all the other women at Court; and because of this I should be the Queen of England.

How foolish to dream of the green fields of Hever! What I wanted was the cloth of gold, the diamonds, the rubies, the homage, given to the power behind the throne.

I was so young and heedless. I had thought because Norfolk and Suf-folk had supported me and, with my father and brother, had been my strongest adherents, they were truly my friends.

How could I have been so foolish, how so simple!

What they had planned for—I know now—was the downfall of Wolsey, and they had seen that I could be of help in this. Now that Wolsey could not rise again, my usefulness to them was over.

The King was in a sullen mood; he was studying me speculatively and I could see that he was suppressing some secret emotion.

I felt a twinge of fear. I had so often thought that the day might come when he would be tired of waiting. It would be understandable, for indeed this patient fidelity of his had amazed me in a man of his sexual appetites. There was something miraculous about it. Sorcery, on my part,
thought some; true love, a respect for purity, thought others. I sometimes wondered whether it was because he had passed his first youth. He was thirty-nine years of age. But always in my thoughts had been the fear that I could not hold him off forever.

Now he was seriously disturbed and displeased …with me.

I asked: “Is Your Grace not feeling well?”

His answer was: “I never forget Wyatt and that tablet of yours.”

Wyatt! But Wyatt had been away from Court for a long time. I had rarely seen him since he departed after the affair of the tablet. He had been having an adventurous time and I only heard news of him through his sister Mary. He had left the Papal Court to which he had traveled with Sir John Russell and had wandered through Italy to Ferrara, Bologna and Florence, and to Venice where he had been engaged in some diplomatic work in conjunction with Russell. Traveling from Venice to Rome, he had been captured by the Emperor's troops, and a ransom had been demanded. The adventurous Wyatt, however, escaped, after which he came back to England but only briefly. Henry did not wish him to remain and he was given the post of High Marshal of Calais, where he spent most of his time.

“But I explained to you that he snatched the tablet from me and refused to give it back,” I said.

He must have been on friendly terms with you to do such a thing,” retorted Henry coldly.

“What nonsense is all this!” I was frightened so I went into the attack, dispensing with that ceremony with which even I was expected to address him. “The Wyatts were my family's neighbors, in both Kent and Norfolk. We have known each other since we were children.”

“All the more reason…”

“All the more reason for what?”

He took me by the shoulders and looked into my face. “Wyatt was your lover,” he said.

“He declared himself in love with me, if that is what you mean. Many have declared themselves to be so. Why pick on Wyatt?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“The truth is that no one has been my lover in the sense that you imply; nor shall any man be. My virtue is for my husband.” I could see that slack look coming back into his face, so I whipped up my anger. “I see that you have some doubt. Mayhap you have been listening to those who would slander me. I will not remain here to be so treated. I shall go home at once. I will not stay where my word is doubted.”

“Anne… Anne…you are so impetuous…so quick to anger…”

“And so would you be, my lord, if you were doubted by the one in whom you had placed the most trust.”

He said: “The waiting is too long. It unnerves me.”

“I know, I know. But we have the remedy. The divines have supported you. Cromwell believes you can do without the Pope. Yet you continue to bow the knee to him and at the same time you believe calumnies about me. And that is something I will not endure.”

“It was false… that story of Wyatt? But he is an attractive fellow and I have seen you two together.”

“What would you have me do? Say to him, ‘Go away, old friend and neighbor. The King has forbidden me to speak to you.’ No …no…I see that this waiting is wearying you and you must seek excuses to be rid of me. There is no need, my lord. If I am not wanted, I am ready to go.”

He held me close to him. Inwardly I was exultant, while I assumed anger. I could command him. His love for me was not to be destroyed by scandals which my enemies sought to circulate about me.

“I believe you,” he said. “I would always believe you. It is sometimes hard to accept the fact that one so beautiful…so different from the rest…”

“You must believe me, Henry,” I said firmly. “If you do not, I must go.”

“Never even speak of it.”

“I must…if youwish to be rid ofme.”

“By God's Holy Mother, did you ever believe that?”

“Sometimes I do not know what to believe. The divines have declared your marriage invalid, yet you hold back. You are afraid of Katharine.”

“Her nephew is the most powerful man in Europe. I cannot risk offending him. The Pope!” He snapped his fingers. “Vacillating Clement… swaying in the wind…I will, I won't …What do I care for him?”

“The new religion sets out the wrongs of the Church of Rome.”

“I do not question the Church itself—only its leaders.”

“But the leaders
are
the Church.”

“Nay,” said the King. “I am as fervent a Christian as any man.”

“So can you be without adhering to the Church of Rome. What did Cromwell say: ‘Why should you not be the head of your Church…the Church of England?’”

“These are weighty matters, Anne, and I, at the moment, am most concerned about what I heard of you and Wyatt.”

“I would know who has whispered this slander to you.”

“I should not tell you.”

“But you will, Henry. I must know who it is who spreads lies about me.”

“I should not have troubled you. Suffice it that I believe the rumor to be false.”

“It does not suffice for me. I must know the names of those who have said this of me.”

“I do not believe the man.”

“So it was a man.”

“Let it be, Anne. It is you I believe. It is you I love. It is you whom I will make my Queen.”

“This can never be if you do not trust me, and if you refuse to tell me the name of my slanderer, I shall know you do not.”

“Anne, if it had not been someone close to me, one whom I love as a brother, I should have cuffed him and threatened him with my displeasure.”

So it was someone close to him! My heart was beating fast. It was not just something which had been whispered in the streets. Someone in a high place had actually come to him and told him this.

It was imperative that I knew who.

“But you believed him …”

“Only until you assured me. Oh, Anne, how I longed for that reassurance.”

“Henry,” I said seriously, “it cannot be as it was between us if you do not trust me. Who was it?”

He hesitated for a moment. Then he said: “It was Suffolk.”

Suffolk! The Duke who, with Norfolk and my father, had appeared to be my strongest adherent. His wife had come to hate me, although she had been friendly toward me long ago in France. She could not forget that once I had been her maid of honor and would—if all went well— soon take precedence over her. She was only the King's sister; I should be his Queen. She, at least, had been open in her resentment; he, the traitor, the sly schemer, had feigned support just until I had helped to bring about the fall of Wolsey, and now he was seeking to bring me to mine.

“Suffolk!” I cried. “Then I must indeed leave Court.”

“Assuredly not. You cannot go.”

“The Duke of Suffolk is your brother-in-law and one of Your Grace's greatest friends. I know how you enjoy his company. I cannot ask you to deprive yourself of it; but that means you must be deprived of mine.”

“Anne, I'll speak to Suffolk. I'll tell him he was wrong. An apology…he shall apologize.”

I shook my head. “I do not trust him. He is a liar. He thinks as his wife, your sister, and resents my presence here. It is better for me to go. Let us have an end of this matter.”

“An end! What do you say, Anne?”

“I say that we have the approval of the divines; we have Cromwell's solution; but still we remain in this state. And you listen to the lies of your
dear
friend…your brother-in-law, whom I now know to be my enemy and who will not cease to pour poison in your ear concerning me. I cannot remain at Court while Suffolk is here.”

He sought to pacify me. I felt my power over him then. I had to show Suffolk that I would not allow him to go unpunished. As the King embraced me, I held aloof.

“I must leave,” I said.

“Nay, nay sweetheart. Suffolk shall go. He shall be banished from Court.”

“When?” I asked.

“This very day.”

This was victory. Suffolk would learn his lesson.

I was triumphant, but I felt exhausted and very uneasy.

I was surrounded by enemies. Norfolk had never really been appreciative of the fact that I was bringing great glory to the family. It seemed ironic that the Boleyns, whom the Norfolks had always resented, should be the ones to find such favor with the King. My father must now be one of the richest men in the country; George was rising; Mary remained in obscurity, but then that was Mary's own fault and probably her desire; she was unlike the rest of us, completely without ambition. The Suffolks were now my declared enemies. Perhaps I should have been more wary of them than I was. After all, Charles Brandon had always been, from the early days, a great favorite with the King, and there was no doubt that Henry loved his sister. So they were very powerful enemies.

It was impossible to keep news from seeping out. The whole country knew about the verdict of the ecclesiastical courts, and there were even whispers that there might be a break with Rome. People had been used to the old ways for centuries. Many did not like change but there were some who were becoming imbued with the new ideas. This was something quite different. The proposal was not that the religion should change in any way, only that the head of the Church in England should be the King and not the Pope.

Garbled versions of what was actually happening circulated. I was at
the center of the controversy, it was said. This was true in a way, for but for me the matter would never have been raised, or would it? Partly it was due to the King's obsession with me and the fact that I would not become his mistress and held out for marriage; but on the other hand he desperately needed a male heir and it was clear that Katharine could not give him that. His continual complaint was: I need an heir. The country needs an heir… and that heir must be male.

If his wife had been anyone but aunt of the Emperor, the matter would have been settled long ago.

And now there was this mighty controversy for which I was blamed. I was a witch. I was a sorceress. I was an emissary of the Devil.

If only I could tell them that I had been drawn into this affair unwillingly at first. I had been robbed of my chance of happiness and because of that I had become ambitious.

Yet, I was the scapegoat. It could be terrifying at times. I was afraid to ride through the streets. They shouted after me. They called me lewd names.

Once, when I was supping with the King, a messenger came in haste to say that a crowd of people were assembled at the stairs waiting for me to leave.

“Your Grace, they look murderous to me,” said the servant.

Henry was angry. He hated little so much as these displays of the people.

I had to leave in haste by a side door and not take the barge. It was disconcerting.

I heard everywhere: “We'll not have Nan Bullen.”

I thought: We cannot go on like this. Something must happen soon.

I had my family and a few good friends like Norris, Weston, Brereton. George was the one I could truly trust. My father was growing uneasy. He was aware of the storms about me. He had so much relished the promotion and the way in which the money was rolling into his coffers. He was not particularly grateful to me; it was the Boleyn tradition, he believed, that the daughters should build up the family fortunes. I was only following along that road in a more spectacular way than my predecessors.

I read a good deal and was getting more and more interested in the new ideas. I always had a book near me so that, if I had any spare time, I could pass it in reading.

One day I found a book on the table which I had not seen before. It was a kind of almanac, a book of prophecies. I was always amused to leaf through such books. I even remembered some of the prophecies and took
an interest in seeing whether they came true. I opened the book. There was a picture of the King. He was standing, and, kneeling at his feet, was the Queen. She was wringing her hands. It was clearly meant to portray the recent trial.