The Secret Diary of Anne Boleyn by Robin Maxwell

Author:Robin Maxwell [Maxwell, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-61145-434-5
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2004-10-15T16:00:00+00:00

Yours faithfully,

Anne

25 December 1529

Diary,

O am I wretched in the extreme! Hidden away in my apartments I can hear the raucous Christmastide festivities in the great hall of Greenwich — most grand and public celebrations presided over by the King and Queen whilst here in my paltry gathering I’m attended only by my Sister and my Mother, Thomas Cranmer and several loyal courtiers. George is still in France and Father — I think he does not know what loyalty means — feasts beside the King tonight.

I railed loud and fierce at Henry for this miserable arrangement, but he claimed impotence at changing ancient custom.

“Whilst she is Queen,” said he, “Katherine must remain my public consort still at Yuletide and at Easter celebrations. Other times, sweetheart, you’ll surely be at my right hand. Already we are most scandalous and flaunt our love prodigiously. But on these holy days my subjects would not stand to see you at my side, but would rebel most loudly, Anne. Forgive me, please.”

I did not forgive Henry, but sent him from my sight with hot tears rolling down my face. And now I listen to the music wafting from the hall below, see in my mind a thousand candles making bright the festive tables, Henry’s glittering guests, their jewels and gorgeous fashions, dancing, laughter and my enemies gloating at my absence.

I laid my miseries on my widowed sister Mary’s doorsill. She listened long to me as I lamented all my enemies. First of course the Queen, who in her stolid perseverance and infuriating dignity, repels all Henry’s machinations and refuses still to treat me badly. Mary claims that Katherine believes that we will never marry, that if she holds her place with firm resolve and says nothing ill construed or hurtful, day will come when she is reinstated in her place in Henry’s heart, her marriage once again whole. The Queen, she says, cannot hate me, that her Catholic faith and pious love will not allow it.

This is not the same for Princess Mary. My Sister clearly sees, as I do, the poison in that young girl’s eyes for me. Catholic or not she wishes me dead. And tho Henry more and more despises Katherine, he yet loves his pretty daughter Mary, now thirteen, most clever and well schooled, his Pearl of the World. Until my womb bears our little Prince this frail girl remains his only legal heir.

Lesser enemies but still vexing are Katherine’s Spanish waiting ladies. I’ve said aloud I wished they all were lying at the bottom of the sea. Mary asked was it true I’d told the Queen’s maid Maria de Moreto I would rather see the Queen hanged than confess she was my mistress. I confessed yes, ‘twas true in deed, and Mary roared with laughter which I joined. ‘Twas good to feel the grey cloud lifting from my heart as we dispatched my many other foes with great bawdy jokes and jabs.

Then she asked me what I wished most fervently for. It took me no time to answer.

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