Between Two Kings (31 page)

Brosse chuckled. He respected the new Queen of France because she indeed had an incredible mind. It was the first time he had talked about the military campaign with the lady. “Your Majesty is correct.”

“I presume the king knows very well what is happening in Paris when he is out of the city and even out of the country,” she declared in a matter-of-fact manner.

“The king is always well aware of his surroundings. His Majesty’s sister Queen Marguerite regularly reports on what is going on in the country,” Brosse replied officially.

Anne laughed, her brows quizzically raised. “Monsieur de la Brosse, I bet that King François has a very large network of spies who are his trusted and reliable people. I am sure that the king has such people in every country.”

Jacques de la Brosse nodded. Queen Anne was a profound courtier, especially after the court of King Henry VIII of England and her position as the Queen of England. The more Brosse learnt about Anne, the more astonished he was that King Henry had set her aside and had accused her of such absurd things. “Your Majesty is right,” he said, a smile curving his thin lips.

Anne fluttered her eyelashes. She wanted to make Brosse her friend and her spy, even if he was François’ spy. She needed to establish solid friendships amongst the French courtiers and diplomats. Brosse was a cupbearer to the King of France, a French soldier and a diplomat, but he had been in the favor of the king only for several years. Anne was sure that François had trusted Brosse if he had asked him to stay with Anne. She wanted to be friends with the people whom her husband trusted and favored. It was a simple tactic, but now she wasn’t able to make other conclusions as she wasn’t at the French court.

“And you are one of these spies?” she questioned.

Brosse chortled. He realized what Anne was hinting at. “I am your friend, Your Majesty. I will tell you if a cloud is going to form around Your Majesty,” he pledged.

Anne smiled at him. She saw the sincerity of his words. «I know, Monsieur de la Brosse. I appreciate your friendship.” Anne’s thoughts drifted back to François who was recruiting people for the army. He needed to mobilize the French nation against the aggressor and the enemy – the emperor. The common people needed to be stimulated to fight for their king. Anne understood that the common people needed a fairytale. They needed to see that they were fighting for the king and the queen, 
the Savior of the King
, who had risked her own life to save the king. It was their deal that their marriage would serve as a political tool for François to inspire his people.

François had fulfilled his part of the deal by helping her to organize the downfall of Cromwell. Now it was her turn to help François and to strengthen their alliance. The common people of France needed to see the King of France and the Queen of France together. It would give them the inspiration and passion they needed to win the war. It would undoubtedly help François in his military campaign. It would also help Anne to cultivate her image of 
le Sauveur du Roi-Chevalier
,
the Savior of the Knight-King
. She had to be useful to François. She decided that she would go to Piedmont and find François there.

Anne smiled at Brosse. “Monsieur de la Brosse, can you organize my secret trip to Turin? I want to meet His Majesty King François there. I will be travelling as Anne de Ponthieu.”

Brosse was abashed. “But, Your Majesty…”

Anne raised her hand. Then she smiled with a bewitching, charismatic smile. “The common people will be happy to see the king and the queen together.”

“But your face,” he objected.

“You know what is happening in England now,” Anne began and paused, looking at his reaction. As he nodded, she resumed speaking. “In addition, I will use a Protestant German cap with a veil on the grounds of the preservation of my life.”

“Your Majesty, but a trip in your condition… our king will be displeased.”

Anne laughed at him. “I am feeling very well. I am not sick and I am not dying – I am just in a family way. Don’t worry about me.” Her voice turned low and a little persuasive. At the same time, there was a note of some authority in her tone. Anne couldn’t be as authoritative as she was used to being as the Queen of England, so she maneuvered in her new position instead. She chose a combination of authority and persuasion for Brosse. “King François won’t be displeased,” she asserted. “And even if he is displeased, I promise that I will do my best to cool off his anger.”

Jacques de la Brosse sighed heavily. He was sure that Queen Anne would be able to pacify François’ anger. He made such a conclusion on the basis of how he had seen the king look at his wife when they were in Venice. Brosse was interested to know whether Anne knew how much she had charmed the king.

“I will help you come to Turin. I will organize a safe and confidential trip,” Brosse pledged.

Anne was delighted. She would help François as much as he had helped her organize the downfall of Thomas Cromwell. François had kept his word, and she would do the same. She wasn’t ready to remain indebted to him. It wasn’t in her nature. She would do everything to be useful to him. They were excellent political allies, and she intended to continue following that line.

November 1537, Staffordshire, England

On the birthday of Anne’s son Arthur, Lady Mary Boleyn Stafford and her husband William Stafford prepared a small party for the children – their daughter Anne, son Edward, and Anne’s son Arthur.

Thomas Boleyn, the Earl of Wiltshire, and his wife Lady Elizabeth Howard Boleyn arrived for the event. This was the first time Thomas Boleyn and Lady Elizabeth had met their grandchild Arthur. Everybody was smiling and there was laughter and music. Many gifts were given to Arthur by his grandparents and his Aunt Mary. The boy seemed to understand the merry environment and often smiled.

It was a happy event, at least until Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk, arrived at the Stafford household. At first Mary didn’t want to accept “the Howard devil” as she referred to him, but her father, the Earl of Wiltshire, urged her not to alienate Norfolk and become his enemy.

The Duke of Norfolk was Lord High Treasurer of England and, along with Thomas Cromwell, second in power only to King Henry himself. Through sheer cunning and skillful hypocrisy, Thomas Howard managed to escape the specter of his own niece Anne Boleyn’s downfall from grace and remain at King Henry’s side as his prominent adviser. Norfolk would be a dangerous enemy, and Thomas Boleyn persuaded Mary to stay calm and be cautious with Norfolk and to show Arthur to him. Mary sighed and agreed with her father. Thomas instructed Mary that the elder Boleyns mustn’t be seen at the Stafford household, so he and his wife locked themselves in the study room.

The Duke of Norfolk greeted Mary and William in the parlor and requested to see Anne Boleyn’s son. Mary reluctantly brought the child into the hall, but she didn’t let Thomas Howard take the boy in his arms. If Norfolk was angry with Mary, he didn’t show his true feelings.

“The boy is one year old now,” Thomas Howard stated matter-of-factly.

Mary nodded, cradling Arthur. “Yes, Your Grace.” She didn’t want to call him Uncle. After what he had done to Anne and George, she refused to acknowledge their blood relationship.

The Duke of Norfolk came closer to Mary and bent down his head to examine Arthur. As his eyes took in Arthur’s appearance, a smile crossed his smug face. “Arthur, I am happy to finally meet you, my boy.” He patted Arthur’s black hair. Then his eyes focused on Mary. “I am delighted to see you, too, my dear niece. I am seeking to reunite with you and your children. You are the part of the Howard family.” His eyes shifted back to Arthur who stared curiously at the unknown man in front of him.

Mary and William exchanged worried looks. They knew why the Duke of Norfolk was looking at Arthur with such curiosity. If he wished to reunite with Mary and Arthur, it was undoubtedly not because of any warm family feelings.

A wry grin curved Mary’s lips. “You didn’t want to reunite with me for many years, so what has happened now, Your Grace? Why are your feelings of kinship reviving only now?” She was ready to laugh in his face, but forced herself to stay calm.

“I haven’t seen you for ages, my dear Mary. Please address to me as Uncle, not Your Grace,” Norfolk said. A glimmer of a smile warmed his face before it disappeared. “I wanted to attend the first birthday of my great nephew Arthur.”

“Thank you for coming here, Your Grace,” Mary replied officially.

Norfolk ignored her formal address. If Mary didn’t want to reconcile, it would only make things worse for her. He had come there because of Arthur. He was happy to see that Anne’s son had such a striking resemblance to the king. Now the king’s new son was so sick, this boy would help him attain more power at court. “Mary, I think that your household isn’t good enough for Arthur. I want to help you and take you and the boy from here to London. Of course, your husband and your children will accompany you,” he suggested.

William Stafford, who had been keeping silent, decided to speak now. His gaze met Norfolk’s cold gaze. “Your Grace, we are grateful for your care, but we cannot accept your proposal. We won’t go to London with you.” There was a ring of finality in his voice.

The Duke of Norfolk forced a smile and looked at Mary. “Mary, are you sure that you don’t want to have my protection? Don’t you need my help?”

“Your Grace, I am very grateful that you want to help Arthur as I know that you don’t care for me.” She kissed Arthur on his forehead. “When everybody turned their heads away from this innocent child, William and I took him in to our household. We love this boy as if he was our own son.” Arthur started fussing, reacting to the rising tension in the room. Mary cradled the child to appease him. After a short pause, she continued. “I know very well about the troubles with King Henry’s newborn son. Much gossip is floating around in England about the child’s defects. People call it the punishment for my sister’s murder.” She raised her voice. “And I know, Your Grace, why you need Arthur right now.” She raised her chin. “I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to use my dear Anne’s son like a pawn in your dirty games.”

Norfolk forced an unpleasant laugh. “Mary, you are robbing this child of an excellent future.”

Mary looked away. “If the king orders me to arrive at the court, I will obey.”

In fifteen minutes, the Duke of Norfolk was gone. He wasn’t happy with the results of his trip, but he could do nothing else at that moment. He couldn’t force Mary to come to London with him. He would have to find another way to bring Mary and Arthur to court. Norfolk had to show Arthur to the king because the child’s royal parent would undoubtedly acknowledge that the boy was fathered by him. The duke had easily distinguished the resemblance between the boy and the King of England and wanted to use it for his own advantage. Whatever Norfolk did in his life was for self-preservation and advancement, to the exclusion of everything else.

After Norfolk left, Thomas Boleyn and his wife Elizabeth returned to the hall of the small house. Mary told them in detail about the conversation with Norfolk and what he wanted from them. Thomas approved that Mary had rejected Norfolk’s invitation. The old Boleyn knew better than anybody else what Norfolk wanted. Thomas also knew what Mary and William didn’t know, and he didn’t want to spoil King François and Anne’s well-thought out plan of clearing Anne’s name. It wasn’t the hour for the king to see his son Arthur.

“I was so anxious during our conversation with the Howard devil,” Mary avouched.

Lady Elizabeth, Mary’s mother, smiled at her eldest daughter. Now she held Arthur. “I know, Mary. Thomas Howard is my brother, but I don’t want to see him. I cannot forgive him for how he abandoned Anne and George when they needed him most in their lives.”

Thomas Boleyn approached Mary and took her hands in his. “Mary, I know that you haven’t forgiven me. Maybe we will never be close again.” Mary wanted to say something, but he waved for silence. “I won’t apologize as it is no use.” He wasn’t a man who showed his guilt and who apologized even if he felt sorry. “I just want to say that I am proud of how you treated Norfolk.”

Mary was bewildered. “Thank you,” she muttered.

“But we will need my brother soon,” Lady Elizabeth admitted.

“Indeed,” Thomas agreed. “Norfolk will be happy to move Cromwell out of the king’s grace.”

“I wonder how long it will take before King Henry has his eyes opened to Cromwell’s evil deeds,” Lady Elizabeth spoke. Her gaze was always on Arthur as she was so happy to meet her new grandchild. Anne had been her favorite daughter and this small boy meant a great deal to her. She also was happy to finally meet Mary’s children.

The Earl of Wiltshire sighed. “The Howards are Catholics, and the Duke of Norfolk will be happy to seriously challenge the religious reforms. Later we will ally with him.”

Mary and William stared at them in confusion. They were puzzled. They knew about the current hysteria around Master Cromwell and always laughed as they read the pamphlets. However, they didn’t know the truth about the situation.

“I won’t let anybody harm Arthur,” Thomas Boleyn said. “There will be a time when the king will see him, and it must happen soon.”

Mary was confused. “Father…”

William was also bewildered. “Sir Thomas…”

Thomas waved for silence. “I will explain everything to you later. Now it will be better for all of you to move to the Hever Castle. It is for Arthur’s sake. Now, when the king’s son is sick, there will be many people who will try to harm Arthur. We must protect him,” he said firmly.

CHAPTER 16

December 1537, the Palace of Whitehall, London, England

After the birth of his son, King Henry spent several weeks as if he were living in another world. He even forgot about Thomas Cromwell who was still locked in his house and awaited invitation to go to the court.

Since the birth of his poor son, Henry’s life was a dull and gloomy existence. He spent the first two weeks locked in his bedchamber and the study room, drinking heavily and crashing everything around. He cancelled all audiences and private visits. He didn’t attend even the meetings of the Privy Council. Henry was too distressed and too disjointed from reality.

After weeks of confinement in his quarters, Henry ordered to organize the banquet. A lot of courtiers came, but the atmosphere wasn’t merry – it was miserable. Although Henry had ordered there be no gossip about the king’s troubles, the courtiers knew something bad had happened to the king’s infant son. They were not in a mood for celebrations, and soon Henry realized that.

Then Henry cancelled all the entertainments at the court. There were no jousts, no festivities, no diners, and no dancing; from time to time, only rare official receptions took place. There were weeks when those official audiences were rescheduled and postponed because Henry wasn’t in the mood to accept any visitors and to be involved in state affairs.

Henry’s newborn son was christened as Richard, without his mother in attendance, as the custom was. Henry named the boy Richard, not Edward; he didn’t want to give his favorite male name to his sick son. He chose that name because it had a symbolical meaning, being a rather unfortunate name for previous English monarchs and princes.

Queen Jane wished his two daughters to attend the christening, and Henry satisfied Jane’s request, giving his permission to bring Elizabeth to the court from her prolonged exile at the Woodstock Manor, although he wasn’t very fond of that idea. Both of the king’s daughters, Lady Mary Tudor and Lady Elizabeth Tudor, attended the baptism and carried the infant’s train during the ceremony.

King Henry was shocked that his son was so chronically sick. He pitied the infant whom he had not taken in his arms since his birth in October. Henry didn’t wish to see Prince Richard whom he viewed as a symbol of his inability to have healthy male children and his invirility. Given that the child was born with incurable defects, Henry decided not to bestow upon him the title of Prince of Wales.

During her pregnancy, Jane had led a quiet and calm life, and her health was watched by the royal physician and the best midwives in the kingdom. Then why was the boy born sick? Was it Jane’s fault?

Henry couldn’t help but pity himself. He had annulled his marriage to Anne Boleyn who seduced him using witchcraft and bastardized their daughter Elizabeth, excluding her from the line of succession. He had also bastardized his eldest daughter Mary after he had annulled his cursed marriage to Catherine. Henry didn’t have legitimate children at all. He not only had no male heir, after he refused to invest his newborn son with the title of the Prince of Wales, but not even a single legitimate heir. All his other children were illegitimate, having been bastardized by their father.

Henry had executed Anne after she had committed mortal sins against Henry and England and, of course, against God. He punished those men with whom Anne shamelessly betrayed him and his love for her. He married sweet and pure Jane. He took her virginity on their wedding night, and he was sure that it was so because after their lovemaking he clearly saw the scarlet spots of Jane’s blood on the bed sheets. Jane was an obedient and proper wife, an angel sent to him from Heaven to save England from the bloody civil wars for succession. At least he had thought so before his son was born.

Why was God so cruel to Henry? Why did God give him so much sorrow in the marriage that initially promised to be heavenly and happy? What did he do wrong? Henry felt as though he had lost his way in the sophisticated labyrinth of pain and unhappiness which followed Anne Boleyn’s death. Was it God’s punishment? But how could he be punished if the harlot had paid for her crimes?

December 1537, Austin Friars, England

The bleak, nearly invisible rays of the cold autumn sun illuminated the roof of Thomas Cromwell’s brick two-storied house, with the street frontage possessing the third storey and the garrets.

In London Cromwell had almost always lived at Austin Friars. Becoming one of the key figures at the court, he purchased many of the surrounding properties at Austin Friars outright at a cost of five hundred pounds. Cromwell had always loved his mansion which was one of the greatest private houses in London. The house was a domestic residence of the Cromwell family, as well as an administrative base and an urban palace for accepting important guests, potentially even the king.

However, now Cromwell’s mind was very far from being fascinated with his great mansion. He continued living at his house and hadn’t gone once to his office over the past month because he was acting in accordance with the King of England’s instructions. He was patiently waiting for an invitation from the king to return to the court, but nothing changed with the passing of time. What could he do for the timing being? He could only wait.

Every day Thomas Cromwell read the pamphlets written by the infamous French poet Mellin de Saint-Gelais, the pamphlets that proclaimed the truth that Cromwell had designed the downfall of Queen Anne Boleyn. There were more than ten pamphlets with different text all on the same theme proclaiming Cromwell’s guilt at the downfall of the innocent Queen of England.

Soon Cromwell’s servants gave him the thick book printed in English but originally written in French, as Cromwell assumed. They said that the book had recently been distributed in England and that it had originally been written in French. The book was written by the French poet Clément Marot and was named “
Thomas Cromwell: the evil genius of the English Reformation
”. With trembling hands, Cromwell opened the book and began to read.

The book contained a detailed critical analysis of Cromwell’s deals during the ongoing Reformation in England, including the Dissolution of the Monasteries, many of which were good and wealthy.

Marot said that Cromwell had insisted on the Dissolution of the Monasteries by simply removing some of the less important organizations within the Church. At first, only the smaller monasteries were dissolved, and the monks were sent to the larger institutions. Marot wrote that later Cromwell had begun to claim that the monks had corrupted the larger institutions and dissolved them also. The poet accused Cromwell of manipulating the definitions of good and bad monasteries with the final purpose of dissolving all the monasteries, either large or small, and with the ultimate goal of destroying the whole Church.

Marot asserted that Cromwell had acted for his own benefit and in accordance with his own purposes and motives, under false grounds of corruption in many large English monasteries. Clément Marot stated that there was no corruption in many of the monasteries that had already been dissolved, underscoring that some of them had been robbed by Cromwell himself.

Clément Marot also declared that Cromwell didn’t support the ideas of humanism and access to education because he wanted to confiscate all the money from the monasteries for the Crown and, of course, part of the wealth for himself. Marot said the monasteries were an essential part of the national welfare and educational system.

The poet accused Cromwell of being an enemy of enlightenment and education in the Renaissance era. In sober fact, Marot charged Cromwell with the same topics of confrontation Cromwell had with Anne Boleyn who insisted that a part of the money obtained from the Dissolution of the Monasteries must be used to set up more grammar schools and medical centers, as well as on other charitable purposes.

Marot declared in his book that Cromwell had introduced the Reformation legislation to legalize his own beliefs as a radical Protestant. And the poet was right as Cromwell indeed was a Protestant. Marot said that Cromwell had wanted to completely illegalize Catholic beliefs in the Ten Articles. On the grounds of that, Marot nicknamed Cromwell “
the evil genius of the English Reformation
”.

When Thomas Cromwell finished reading the book by Clément Marot, after drinking during the night, he collapsed in the armchair near the fireplace. He was shocked and didn’t know what to think about the book. His nerves betrayed him, and he found consolation in the bottle of wine.

In the morning, while suffering a terrible hangover, Cromwell began to think about the situation. The more he thought, the more he was convinced that King François I of France had ordered his sister Queen Marguerite of Navarre to prepare the incriminating pamphlets and the critical book on Cromwell’s deals.

The only question was why the King of France wanted the downfall of Cromwell. Did King François learn that King Henry had financially supported the emperor’s military campaign in Italy when the French King had been defeated and captured? But even if the King of France’s spies had reported this to their master, King François was unlikely to blame Cromwell for that deceit because Cromwell hadn’t had much power at that time. It had been Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, Lord Chancellor and the former Archbishop of Canterbury, who played the role of supporter of France and eventually strayed in order to help the emperor with the hopes of pleasing him and persuading him to support an annulment of the king’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon.

King François couldn’t have blamed Cromwell for that. It meant that there was something else beneath the surface. Was it François’ hatred for King Henry? Or was there something else? Cromwell learnt that King Henry had recently had a son born deaf and dumb. Cromwell realized that the king had been in despair, and it explained why he had to spend time at home and wasn’t summoned to the court to face the king after the critical book had been distributed in England.

Cromwell feared that something bad would happen to him. He didn’t sleep well and didn’t eat. If he slept, his dreams were only about the deceased Anne Boleyn who had been burnt at the stake as a witch. He often remembered Anne during those days. He recalled the day of her death and the fire in which the former queen and his archenemy had died.

Now, understanding that the payback for his evil deeds would be strict and he could be executed, Cromwell wished that he had died together with Anne in that red flame. Cromwell fantasized about how he would be arrested and imprisoned in a dirty damp cell in the Tower of London. Possibly, he would be tortured to death. He imagined how the guards would finally appear and lead him to the scaffold.

His mind produced dreadful images of being pushed into a kneeling position and how the executioner would grab his axe and aim it carefully. Cromwell even saw himself without his head, after it had been chopped off and held by a smiling Anne Boleyn.

Cromwell approached the window and noticed the crowd of people standing near the front steps of his house at Austin Friars. The infuriated people were screaming something. As they saw his shadowy silhouette in the window on the second floor, the screams grew louder and louder. He heard what they were saying about him.

“Cromwell is the evil genius of the Reformation!” a man proclaimed.

“Cromwell is a traitor,” a young woman declared.

“This dishonest man dissolved good monasteries and confiscated the property for himself, not for the Crown. He robbed the king and the people,” another man screamed in rage.

“Cromwell killed Queen Anne because she was against the Dissolution of the Monasteries and because she wanted to use the money for charity and education,” somebody said in a high voice.

“This evil man must be arrested and beheaded,” a woman screamed.

An old man grimaced. “Cromwell must be burnt at the stake, like poor Queen Anne Boleyn.”

“Cromwell murdered the wronged Queen Anne!” a middle-aged woman cried out.

“Queen Anne Boleyn was innocent!” a woman shouted.

“Cromwell is a murderer and a thief,” a young man bawled.

“A traitor! A traitor!” somebody bellowed.

“A heretic! Satan!” a young woman shrilled.

“A traitor! A heretic!” the crowd roared in unison.

Thomas Cromwell shuddered, his knees trembling. He couldn’t stand straight anymore and slipped along the wall to the cold parquet floor. The shouts were what unnerved him the most. The extremely negative and insanely violent reactions of the common people had caught Cromwell off-guard. He no longer could withstand it and started weeping from the fear and horror that now seized his entire essence.

December 1537, Castello di Rivoli, Turin, Piedmont

The war in Italy was nothing new for the French. The Italian wars started at the end of the 15
th
century in the period of the broken Italy when it was a number of small republics such as Dalmatia, Florence, Genoa, Istria, Lucca, Milan, Modena, Naples, Savoy, the Roman Papacy, Sardinia, Sicily, Siena, and Venice. Starting from the end of the 15
th
century, the Holy Roman Empire began to lose its control over the Italian Peninsula.

The fraught relationships between the Habsburgs and the Valois, the expansionist foreign policies of France, Florence, Spain, and Venice and the enfeeblement of the Holy Roman Empire in its control over Europe contributed significantly to the beginning of the Italian wars. The independent Italian republics were left with little power of their own, being politically unstable and with inadequate resources necessary to maintain independence.

Ferdinand Trastámara or Ferdinand II of Aragon used the period of political instability in Italy to pursue his claim to the Republic of Naples, which was a Castilian possession of his wife Isabella of Castile, as well as to his claim to the Republic of Sicily by making strategic maneuvers that enabled him a significant deal of influence over the Italian peninsula. Being afraid of the rising power of the Spaniards in Italy, Ludovico Sforza, the Duke of Milan, invited King Charles VIII of France to pursue his claim to the Republic of Naples, a claim that could be traced back as far as the 13
th
century.