“The king’s men told us on the way to the Tower that the trial has already been scheduled, Your Grace,” I said. “The gentlemen of the privy chamber will be tried today. You and George are to be tried on Monday next.”
“On what have they based these charges?” she asked. “When they bring them to me, I can but say nay.”
“On hearsay, Anne.”
Jane Rochford kept her distance. While my sister, Alice, unpacked some new garments for Anne, and Lady Zouche brought her copy of Tyndale’s Scriptures, I addressed myself to the ladies taking leave. Lady Norfolk turned her back on me afore I could speak.
But Jane pulled herself up into an arrogant stance and shot me a buttery grin. “If you’re kind to me, Mistress Wyatt, I shall see to it that Jane Seymour offers you a place in her privy chamber, along with me.”
“I am not surprised that you sold yourself so cheaply. But to sell your husband too?” I said. “Even Judas held out for thirty pieces of silver.” I drew near to her, near enough to see the bloodshot veins in her eyes and to inhale her putrid breath, which smelt of her many black teeth. “Recall you this, Jane Parker. He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.”
She recoiled from me at that and crossed herself.
“You needn’t cross yourself, madam,” I said. “’Tis a promise from the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.”
She, Mrs. Cousins, and Lady Norfolk took their leave; the king had sent a litter to carry them back to court so they need not suffer the indignity of the waterway. I was glad to be rid of them. Nan Zouche kept herself busy unpacking some things we’d brought for Anne and my sister went to visit my brother Thomas, lodged nearby in the Bell Tower. Anne seemed deeply grieved to learn that he’d been imprisoned too. I did not share with her that our final fate had not yet been clarified.
I attended to Anne. “How do you fare?” I asked quietly. Now that Jane and the others were gone she settled in.
“As well as I may,” she said. “How does my mother? My father? My daughter?”
“They grieve, and the babe, of course, knows naught. Lady Bryan shall be loving to her, as ever. I, I took your pearls and your locket ring and hid them. I shall ensure she receives them if….”
“If I cannot,” Anne finished. I nodded.
When Alice returned to the Queen’s Lodging she whispered to me that all of the men of the privy chamber had been found guilty of adultery with the queen, though none save Smeaton would admit anything at all, nor malign Anne, even when promised leniency if they’d admit.
“Speak up, Lady,” Anne called from her chair. “I wish to hear the details. You’ve naught to spare me from.”
“The jury was packed with noblemen sympathetic to Katherine and Mary, madam, as well as those who favor Jane Seymour.”
“Who has, I suppose, taken up residence in my bed?”
I shook my head. “She says she will not partner with the king till after they are married.”
Anne laughed. “She’s only just clever enough to imitate but has not the wit to generate an idea of her own nor the morals to hold to them if she had.” She quieted some. “And the men tried today?”
“Have been returned to the Tower to await traitors’ deaths, my queen,” Alice said. No one needed to elaborate on what that meant.
“Even Ambassador Chapuys, a Spaniard whom you know to be no friend to you nor to your faction, stated, ‘They were condemned upon presumption and certain indications without proof of confession.’”
“Methinks he will not repeat that to the king,” Anne said bitterly.
“No, my lady,” Alice said. “I think not.”
When Anne dozed off for a moment Alice and I clung to one another and grieved for our brother Thomas, whose fate was still undecided. When I stepped outside of Anne’s chambers for some air I could see the tower in which he languished.
Some time passed and Sir William came to check on us and deliver the evening meal. Anne took it graciously and then asked, “If these men have already been convicted of fornicating with me, then there is no hope that I shall be found innocent, is there?”
“The poorest subject the king has will see justice,” he replied.
Anne laughed again, but it was controlled.
We quieted her with food and wine and spent the weekend at prayer. I did everything within my power and beseeched God, on her behalf, to do what was in His, to help her remain calm and dignified on Monday.
Although the men of the privy chamber had been tried at Westminster, Anne and George were to be tried within the Tower itself. Special stands were constructed within the King’s Hall, as if for a great sporting event; we could hear them building all weekend long.
I chose a somber yet royal dress of purple for her to wear, modest and yet becoming. She wore a cloak trimmed with ermine, as was her right.
“Thank you, Meg,” she said to me. Her voice was steady, as were her hands.
“’Tis my pleasure to dress and prepare you for whatever your needs are, Anne,” I said.
She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Your friendship is a constant reminder to me of God’s goodness.”
I turned away then, so she could not see my tears, and prayed that I, too, would find God’s goodness in these spiderwebbed corners of life.
Nearly two thousand spectators sweated and grunted and leaned a ready ear in the great hall when we entered. ’Twas like a baiting—all seated round watching the prodding in hopes of provoking a response to bring the crowd to their feet. As it was summer, no candles were needed in support of the light streaming through the great, veined windows. Anne’s uncle, the faithless Lord Norfolk, presiding as lord high steward for the day, was seated at the center of a large planked table in front. A chair, comfortable but certainly no throne, was placed for Anne. As the Scripture exhorting me not to return evil for evil came to mind, I repented of my wish that there would be a warm corner in hell for Norfolk someday soon and instead prayed for his eyes to be opened this day and justice to be served.
Sitting on the panel of peers was Henry Percy, Lord Northumberland, Anne’s first love. What, I wondered, would her life have been like had she married him? Would Wolsey, now with plenty of time in eternity to consider his life anew and again, wish himself back in time and offer his assistance to the marriage rather than blocking it and making way for the king?
“Madam,” Norfolk began, “you are principally charged with having cohabited with your brother, George, Lord Rochford, and other accomplices. You are charged with having promised to marry Henry, Lord Norris, upon the king’s death, which you both hoped for. You are charged with having favorites in the court, men and boys, and plying them with gifts so they could slake your lusts. You are charged with witchcraft. To these charges, what do you plead?”
Anne stood, waited till all eyes were upon her, and answered. “I plead not guilty to each offense, My Lord of Norfolk.”
Norfolk read off the dates of the supposed adulteries. I was exultant as I heard them. In many of them, Anne was in a completely different place than the accused spot of rendezvous. A simple review of the king’s books could affirm that. Or the men charged were elsewhere. Or she had been recovering from childbirth, surrounded at all hours by her ladies, and still bleeding.
Anne refuted each charge. The spectators, all two thousand of them, seemed with her. I heard some cheers on her behalf from the crowd, which Lord William’s men quickly quieted.
“It may be so that you can lay claim for these dates, but the document specifically claims that there were divers other dates and places, both before and after,” Norfolk boomed out.