Wrting in her room in the Tower of London, Anne dreams and remembers the past and considers her dreadful future.
By Anne Boleyn
17th May 1536
Sometimes I hate those powerful men, sitting there at the top board, eating and drinking, laughing at us down here trying our best not to cry. One pompous King is bad enough with Francis, but when two get together I cannot keep my eyes off their ridiculous antics each trying to outdo the other without ending up looking the stupid idiots they really are. Henryís sister Mary is worse, she plays the heroine all the time trying to be centre of attention, winding up her new husband, Brandon in front of his best friend the King of England. Poor old Claude, she just takes it as part of her duty, producing babies and smiling in public whilst her husband, King Francis of France rubs her nose in the humiliation of his public affairs with any woman he wishes. I notice Henry is not too happy now with Queen Katherine, the rumours are rife that a separation is on the cards because of lost babies. I too would want that man to leave me alone if five of my children had died and only a girl survived, must be something wrong in the Tudor line just like Prince Arthur, bad lungs. Now my sister Mary has fallen into the Royal snare and has become the mistress of Francis, ridiculous girl just how can that help our father who is the ambassador to Paris, it will shame us all. My part in this whole scenario is to play the part of Perseverance, as if I would persevere to be a Royal when the love of my life is back there in England forbidden to marry me thanks to Thomas Wolseyís ban and his declaration of my family being too low in rank to marry such a prominent man. I object to men ruling my life this way and I object to dowager Queens pretending that a crown still sits on their head.
I can hear them laughing and talking at the same time, some sort of wager about a girl they both fancy, God help her.
I Beat You Francis
by Henry Tudor
You may be young and muscled pure
But I have lived a life strong and sure
You may be King of acres France
But donít be thinking you have a chance.
The Fields of Gold are wet and dull
I will show you my power in full
My play will bring a tear to eye
Young Mary will commit your alibi.
She dances like a smitten cloud
You dribble, and choose out loud
To make me look the incensed fool
I will take it gently, thatís my rule.
Her sister, cold and out of reach
Young Anne Boleyn, of whom I speak
I will take her to my private life
You, dear Francis, care for thy wife.
So I win, the stakes were high
The cold, resistant target nigh
I will love this girl of cold intent
Though to be Queen she must consent.
Dear Francis, King all you survey
Watch your back, the Romans stay
Take care dear friend, not all are true
The Papal force will come after you.
I win, our bet is done
Anne is mine, I have won.
She will give me a boy to rule
Or she will make me the fool.
Her role in life, dear perseverance
Needs to prove her real deliverance
Take me away for Spanish truth
Give me a boy, to carry the truth.
Goodbye King Francis, part we may
Neíer shave Ďtill again we stay
In company Royal, Field in Gold
Remember me and Anne, not so bold.
How can they use me as a pawn in their Kingly games, sportingly on the field and cowardly indifferent to the feelings of the women around them? Thank God heís gone back to England, I declare I felt his eyes drilling into my very soul. Now I must steer clear of Francis and stay within the safety of Claudeís court. Now I know why she says nought. Now I know why Sister Mary has let herself be drawn into the web of Royal corruption. Now I understand the hate the Brandonís have for me, the Duchess knows I know too much about her loose way of life, too loose for a Royal woman, but if she were a man that would be such a difference. Her hatred and fear have killed me.
Do I have to go to the court? I asked my Father, nay I plead to him. Mary must go so you must go is all I hear in return. I knew from the start that Henry was building his web to catch me after-all, Mary was easy now I am the target and the prize in his dreadful wager.
I love thee well
by Henry Tudor
Take me on my dearest Anne
I love thee well
I am your man.
Not just my Queen, my wife to be
I love thee well
And you will love me.
A son bear you for family sake
I love thee well
Or my heart will break.
Take me as a simple man
I love thee well
My dearest Anne
These are not dreams of past events they are nightmares, I wake up screaming in this room, sweat running down my neck, this slender white neck which will soon be cut by a Frenchmanís sword. How cruel can one man be to his sad wife, the woman he forced into marriage and then abandoned to a court already pushed into a decision before it convened, how cruel to get a man from the country I loved to make the final blow, he is the devil. I try to keep my mind at ease with the thought that our daughter, nay, my daughter Elizabeth was named from the woman he loved dearly, his Mother. She is strong and bright, her red hair and blue eyes even melted the cold ice of her fathers heart and should keep her safe from his sudden rages. She will survive the loss of the one who brought her into this cruel world, she will take the Bollinís name with pride into a new era. The Brandonís reach is far, I know her touch on the decisions my husband and murderer makes, I feel her presence whenever I think of the way he treated me this past six months. Iím not a novelty any more, he has won his wager with Francis he has spun my person into is web of sport, he has a new love now and I know that no clemency of the penalty will come to save my life.
Do not admire that uneducated Jane Seymour, she played both of Henryís wives along with her conniving brothers, I warn all of England, the Seymourís will bring disaster to your way of life, all of you.
Beauty leads the way, her kin have the final say
Mercy shows her kindly side, as she takes her Knightly ride.
Pity gives a reasoned look, hoping for a Kingly hook
Honour struts her glorious stuff, white neck above her ruff.
Bounty dark and red, nothing left to be said
Kindness, soft and white, keep you happy all the night.
Constancy always there, pale and coy, blonde and fair
Then in came boyish Anne, must be Perseverance.
The white walls of England, not a welcoming hand
Brought her back in case of attack.
She had changed, rearranged, she looked strange
This girl will attract a King, not the done thing.
Promised to Butler, Ormonde, not her mate, no debate
Father needs her life, to become a structured wife.
Now in court, keep a thought, love a nought
Dance and sing, speak and tell, keep your self to yourself.
Now yellow gold with dark brown large eyes, soon attracts ungallant spies
Tells the King about this girl, a bit of fun, no strings to twirl.
The act of Masque will bring her forth, to show the King her Tomboy worth
Life will change for her forever, choose own way, never.
The shine of gold may whet, silk and silver and sarsenet
The throne may lure, the life in store, will help the poor.
Merchant past up-starting fast, not in truth, not aloof
High bred in style, her French compile, leads down the aisle.
Keep him away, for another day, maiden stay
Sister delves into darkness with this cruel strong highness.
Coy, boy, toy, all these tricks you employ
Hook this man, best you can, should have ran.
Now itís too late, must now mate, stop the hate
Become the next, too complex, watch your necks.
Jewels heaped on person wed, scary place the Royal bed
Try to comply, become soft and ply, help the folk, try.
Promise nought of Royal heir, enemies watch and stare
A boy will seal her fate, nine months the strain to wait.
Red haired and blue eyes, Tudor never disguise
Should be in a whirl, not so, itís a girl.
One in two, a boy then for you, next time itíll be fine
Darling girl so full of love, should be enough from above.
But Kingís move on, now in vain, with another some girl called Jane
Must a boy deliver or be gone forever.
No, baby dead, enough said, thrown out of Royal bed
Witchcraft and great treason, theyíll create a valid reason.
Cromwell will delve just to prove, the final judgement, head remove
This is her final fate, this history that will create worldly hate.
But now the time has given back the world, a kindly mind
Elizabeth will lead the Boleynís fate and become the head of state.
So you hateful, mean and dangerous man, Boleynís will reign,
Better than you ever can.
A story so often sought, the act of love became so sadly fraught
Poor Anne Boleynís ghost has now become the Royal host.
Elizabeth will relive her Motherís wish, a better state to accomplish
She will never forget that fateful day when mother went away.
Never forgive this dreadful crime, keep in mind all the time
Never marry evil man, stay alone best she can.
This masque now replayed, Motherís part not afraid
Tudor way, not today, now plan to be Elizabethan.
End of path, keep your staff, stay pure and strong, this throne you belong
Dally non with beau, they turn, take, hurt and grow.
Englandís white walls defend our Queen, our friend
Anneís final say will keep us safe to this very day.
Her passing was treason itself, the evil doerís created their own wealth
On the back of this mighty maid, their foundations of hate were finally laid.
Vengeful not our Sovereignís way, they survived their evil day
But the true story will one day be heard, lovely Anne was murdered.
Royal blessing to this crime, done before, not first time
So thank you maiden fair from France, our Anne, our Perseverance.
How can they call me a witch, how can they say I am dirty with my brotherís love and how can they cause such fear from my disfigured hand, with its sore by saying such lies about fingers. How could they do it this way? I can hear the shouting outside the walls, they all hate me, they all want me dead. Are they so blind to let such men lead them this way, will the truth ever come out and allow my girl to live in the peace I always desired?
The Girl was Anne Boleyn
By Henry Tudor
You all think she was fair and true
Iím telling you
Thatís not true
She went around with anyone who
Was the devil in disguise.
Sheís not all she seems to be
Sheís not Maryee
Youíre telling me!
She buzzes round like sheís a Bee
The girl with beady eyes
I know now she has to go
To the block
She has to go
The people mock her Ďcos they know
Anneís a witch in disguise.
She cast a spell on my life
Thatís not a wife
Cut like a knife
She stopped my sons and caused me strife
The witch called Ann Boleyn
She left with great dignity
How could I see
Her plea to me
She a left her spell on me
That witch called Anne Boleyn
Sister Mary succeeded where I failed, she gave him a boy but had the wrong reputation so she was married off, but at least she will live on and enjoy her son Henry with Carey. I hope one day justice will prevail and allow her family back into the open, that little Henry will one-day play with Elizabeth as brother and sister, at least by half, but with the same blue blood.
18th May 1536.
Why should I marry him?
By Anne Boleyn
Five years after he saw me dance at Golden field for the Kings
He pounced and decided to court me, smothered me with things.
He gave me fine jewels and silk cloth for my clothes
He took me for hunting and walking his dogs.
But I do not love him, I fear him instead
He demands my affection and wants me to wed.
Six more years now have passed with hate on his breath
I must now concede and marry or my Fathers death.
Just how can I live with such pressure to love
Will god come and protect me, watch from above?
No I believe Iím quite helpless and must try to show grace
Now he offers my Brother and Sister high place.
If I manage to give him a son which he yearns
I could try to show affection, maybe happiness returns.
Were we ever happy?
Were fear and blame always there to cloud the sky?
Did happiness ever come to our marriage and lift me from this suffering?
Yes I was once very happy, my husband, the King, was thoughtful and pampered me so, he gave my brother a high position in his inner circle and my own household were completely taken with my charms. I was expecting a child, a Prince for England as Henry describes my lump, we both waiting patiently for the birth both expectant of great issue. He died, our son died only a new born boy and it broke both our hearts together. I say together, we grieved as a loving couple would and it seemed to bring us closer.
By Henry Tudor
The shrewd shrew wears me out
Arguing, scheming returning shout.
She seemed so attractive, in old courting day
But now with so much power,
The love has gone astray.
She wants all the money for monastery land
Take it and give it by her generous hand.
Buying the people will not win their heart
She needs better building of bridges,
That kept them apart.
ďNo Nan BullenĒ for us they shout to her face
But she carries on trying, old Queen to replace.
She manoeuvres and plans her rebirth and realm
She forgets just who steers,
This ship at the helm.
Termagant woman, so hard to endure
So I found a new love behind a close door.
Jane will not meddle as she knows her place
Anne will create enemies,
Expanding her space.
So let me offer a word in your ear
A Termagant woman as mistress is dear
But marry in haste this turbulent bride
Because she will try to take over,
Take over your side.
We were soon expecting again, happy again.
The disappointment on Henryís face at the birth of our daughter Elizabeth scared me so, it brought back terrible memories of his anger and his ruthless manner which I thought was banished from our home life. But no, he seemed to be moving away from me even though he began to play and love our girl.
By Anne Boleyn
The only loving thing he ever gave to me
My beautiful girl will set my heart free.
Her father the King will not recognise
Your gifts and your soul, the Boleynís he despise.
Keep well my dear child, stay true to yourself
Stay clear of the court, stay well in good health
For I believe it is so that your fate is foretold
No hate, no fear, to come in from the cold.
Beware of your kin, from his line though, not mine
Mary she plots with cowardly spine.
She will want you to cease being a threat to her faith
So keep her a long distance from your mental space.
Watch out for the council who carry out threats
The King has the power, he gets all he nets.
Do not try to coax his Seymour around
She will not be moved by family sound.
Her family will guide her onto the throne
So remember my dear, she wonít be alone.
Her brothers are bad and will try to declare
You a traitor and witch, so baby beware.
I know if you watch your kin like a hawk
They will fail to denounce you with dangerous talk.
Trust nobody at all, stay true to no one
Stay in the shadows until all threats are gone.
One day you will blossom and become Englandís Queen
Stay away from the influence of forces unseen.
Do not trust even your closest of family kin
Disaster is closest and comes from within.
Goodbye dearest daughter, I love you so much
Forgive me for bringing this fear near to touch
Make friends with your Father, stay close to his heart
For he has the power to keep you apart.
I know of his resentment of men with lots of sons and how he had lived through the deaths of many babies, I know he has reasons for his melancholy but I cannot seem to clear his head. I am losing his love and I cannot do anything about it. Maybe next time a boy, maybe not.
Dreams like these do not allow me restful sleep, today my last day for tomorrow I rest forever.
In the night.
By Henry Tudor
It was a judicial foregone conclusion
My fate was determined before
Iíll be guilty as charged, thatís the outcome
But Iíll have my say before on the floor.
Innocent of all trumped up charges
Means nothing to this ruthless man
Why will he not let me continue
And live out my life, best I can?
Theyíll try to encourage some statement
Of guilt which they twist and then knot
But my resolve is to fight back resolutely
For courage, thank God, Iíve a lot.
No tears, no pleaís for forgiveness
Why should I? Iíve done nothing wrong
No son, thatís whatís squarely behind this
And two were born dead, weak not strong.
But Bessie will prove to her people
That Henry was cruel and misled
The verdict will not silence believers
It will split his realm down the middle instead.
My fate is now in the open
No witness for me dared to come
My family has fell in the offing
My friends have agreed the outcome.
Goodbye to good honest justice
Goodbye to truth and goodwill
Goodbye dear people of England
Youíll cheer out of fear when my blood spill.
19th May 1536.
The swordsman awaits
By Anne Boleyn
Today I am calm no need to defend
The day of my death, this life now to end.
A quick blow to my neck with sharp weapon and speed
The Frenchman will offer the path that I doth heed.
He will suffer much more than I ever will
He will remember his deed when my bones lay there still.
Take the money dear man do your task with your skill
Not just woman, but a Queen you now kill.
The King waits just to hear my death ring a bell
His deed will be done, his place waits in hell.
His life will be sad, his conscience will reap
For even a new wife, the pathís far too steep.
Goodbye all you yes-men who followed his lead
May your never sleep soundly, your hearts will now bleed.
Goodbye my true loved ones, not willing to show
I leave you my blessing, now forgive me I must go.
I knew Alnwick Castle held a great secret antiquity regarding Tudor history. Evidence of why Anne Boleyn hated Cardinal Wolsey with such a passion.
Anne was in love with her betrothed from the house of Percy, still young and very precocious she saw herself as a future Percy high on the hill in their Northumbrian Castle of Alnwick. Young Percy also loved Anne Boleyn and her parents agreed to the match. However, with the Percyís being of such high blood and the greatest power in the North East, Henry was advised by Wolsey that this match is too low for the Percyís and it would bring a Howard relative into the already powerful family. Northumberland held back the Scots, and acted like a small country of its own, even one of their expert historians on site call it a Mafia-like rule.
Wolsey forbade the marriage and Anne never forgave him to his death. Poor old Percy too lost his love and was forced to marry the choice offered by the council chaired by Wolsey himself.
And what is the evidence I hear you say, locked away from public view?
It was Anne Boleynís Book of Prayer, leather bound, encased in a carved box. She gave it to her lost love to remember her by. Today, only very special people get a private viewing, no touching and only the resident historian can hold it with white gloves. It is very good condition even at 500 years old. I think there must be secret messages in that book from Anne to her lost love.
Here is a collection of pictures I have taken of a modernday Alnwick Castle and Gardens. I'm not important enough to view the book of prayer. However it was seen recently on an episode of "Antique Trip"