Year 1536, day 14th May 1536 Queen Anne Boleyn’s Palace in the Tower of London It’s well past midnight but my eyes are wide open. My mind is numb. I have been imprisoned in my own palace chambers. I haven’t slept in so many days that I have lost count. I am accused of high treason and adultery.  Why is Henry doing this to me? I have known for quite some time now that he has tired of me and wants to marry again. I understand his need to sire a son but to sacrifice me in such a manner? I am accused of having several affairs but to be maligned further by being accused of incest is unforgivable! Poor George, his only fault, born as my brother and facing death as my purported lover! For all I know, he has already been put to death without proper proof or trial. When their accusations are baseless, what proof would they get anyway? I am willing to forgive Henry everything that he has done to me but this calumny of my entire family is unforgivable. My thoughts go round and round like restless rats in a cage. I had been foolish in assuming that he was so much in love with me, he would never let me go. If only my little son had survived. Is it my fault that he did not live to be the future King of England? Henry was happy when Elizabeth was born yet he still wanted a boy. I suppose I can understand that. No woman has ever become a regent of our country. But aren’t women as capable as men in ruling a country? I get up slowly, wandering from room to room, my bleary eyes taking in the plush furnishings of my royal apartment. Furnishings that I had changed at my whim and fancy. I have access still to all of my splendid gowns of every hue and color, handmade for me with every conceivable fabric known to humankind. Exquisite jewels that have graced my neck, my wrists, my fingers.  What use is any of this to me now? I am but an exotic bird trapped in a golden cage with no means to escape. My body had betrayed me. If only I had given Henry a son, I would still be living a life of luxury and power. I have lived an opulent life, and now I am going to lose everything; including, I am sure, my life.  I take in every little detail. These are the very rooms that I had waited in, to be married to Henry. How my limbs had trembled, my heart had sung, I had been gloriously happy!  My mind is dwelling on the past, it flashes by me like pages in a book where I play the dual role of an ordinary noble woman and the Queen of England. Born into a noble family, I was sent along with my sister, Mary, and brother, George, to school to learn the art of reading and writing. Mary and I also learnt dancing and other womanly arts that would make us worthy brides.  My father was a popular diplomat a favorite to King Henry VII, and so we lived in various parts of Europe, and enjoyed the favour of royals. Well-instructed, and trained in etiquette befitting a lady of my standing, it was not surprising that I was noticed by Princess Margaret of Austria. Her Royal Highness was so taken up with me that she gave me a place in her household, quite an accomplishment for a child my age. It dawned on me then, that I was special, that if I tried hard enough, I could acquire what I desired.  I stayed with for a year before my father called me to France where I became the maid of honor to Queen Mary.  I enjoyed my life in Paris; my love and natural affinity for languages soon had me speaking French fluently. Having honed my observational skills, and equipped with a memory that others feared, I quickly became an expert in the field of couture. Dressing well would help any lady rise up in the ranks, were she willing to spend a little capital. My interests soon extended to exploring literature, music and poetry. Along with that, as one may expect, came the art of flirtation, picked up from my coquettish French companions. The seven years that I spent in France were very happy ones, first as maid of honor to Queen Mary and later to her fifteen-year-old step daughter, Queen Claude.  I was delighted when people spoke of me as brilliant, charming, driven, elegant, forthright and graceful. The more I learnt and the more I explored, the more alive I felt. It gave me an insight into my capabilities; and with that came a great sense of self-assurance, which many people later labelled as arrogant.  Looking back, I suppose these are the qualities that first attracted Henry to me. When I was recalled to England to get married, I acquiesced, because I was fed up with being in service and I had always wanted marriage and children. I had enjoyed my youth and now I was ready for domesticity. I was meant to marry an Irish cousin, James Butler, but at the last moment my father objected as he wanted a grander alliance for me.  Instead of embracing marital bliss, I found myself serving as maid of honour to Queen Catherine. She became very fond of me, my witty remarks, my charming manners had captured her heart. Over a period of time, I too grew to be very fond of her and we became comfortable in each other’s company.  Often when I observed her, I knew that she was hurting inside. She loved Henry deeply but it was not reciprocated. He hardly visited her and if she felt slighted, she never let it show. Her poise and her calm demeanour were qualities that I admired most in her.  I hated Henry for doing this to her. I had no direct contact with him but I had observed him looking at other women with desire in his eyes. I knew with certainty that Catherine was aware of his various dalliances, including his involvement with my own sister. These were my early days in court and he hadn’t yet noticed me.  I wasn’t a beauty by conventional standards but I had been admired for my glossy black hair, my creamy skin and my vibrant big black eyes. I was long necked and slender and I ensured that I was always well attired. The attention I had received since childhood had given me a sense of confidence, and it showed in the way I carried myself. I attracted the admiration of men and envy of all the women I met.  I think I first drew Henry’s attention when Henry Percy the Earl of Northumberland started courting me. I did nothing to turn him away, in fact I was happy to flirt and let him fall in love. I was aware that if I were to succeed in marrying him, I would do very well for myself. We got engaged secretly but our love was not meant to be. When his father came to know, he absolutely refused to accept me as his son’s bride. As a consequence, I once again returned to serve Queen Catherine. I knew I had Henry’s attention when I caught him one day, watching me with a gleam in his eye which was all too familiar. I decided to ignore him, as I had no desire to become his mistress – those were the only intentions he could possibly have towards me.  I was disgusted by men. Women were objects to bear their children and look pretty. Mistresses were even less in their eyes, mere toys to be used and discarded. Henry enjoyed the supreme power of Kinghood. He could have any woman that attracted him. It was rare that he stayed enamoured for more than a few months with each of his many conquests.  And yet, there was one thing that I had to admit about Henry. He never forced himself on the women whom he wanted to bed. He seduced and favoured them in a manner that none could resist. When they fell out of favour, he cast them away. This was precisely the very reason I had become determined to stay away from him. In the year 1526, Henry had become so besotted with me that one morning a note was brought to me by a maid I had never seen before. The note was sealed and I knew at once that it was from Henry. I took the note, and with an impatient wave of my hand gestured her to be gone. I looked around to ensure there was no one present.  I hurried to my room in the Queen’s quarters. I sat down on my bed and with trembling fingers tore open the note.  Come to me. No signature, but I had recognised the imperial note paper and his handwriting. I had read a few of his of his notes to Catherine. One day while I was arranging her clothes, I had found a whole bundle of these notes wrapped and shoved under her gowns. Reading a few of them, I had realized that they had been a happy couple in the early years of their marriage. Feeling ashamed for prying, I had put them back.  I didn’t bother replying to his note.  He was persistent in his seduction tactics: sending me little love notes, gifts of expensive perfumes and even a gown that was as light as gossamer. Catherine was unaware of his attentions…till she found a note he had written to me inviting me to visit the royal garden in his company. When she showed me the note, my heart tightened in fear, but her words calmed me.  “Anne, Henry wants to bed you, but I will not let that happen. You are a good girl and deserve a husband who’ll take care of you. Henry will use you till he tires of you and then all you’ll be is history.” “I am aware of that Your Majesty. I do not wish to be his mistress.”  “You are not only intelligent Anne, but also wise.” The queen had said, patting my hand gently. I was speaking the truth, except it wasn’t the whole truth. What I hadn’t said out loud to the Queen were words I spoke to myself: The only way Henry could get me into his bed was if he promised that I would be his only mistress. I would have held out for marriage but I knew this wouldn’t happen unless Catherine died.  The more I refused his advances, the more enamoured Henry became. He was aware of what I wanted.  Finally, he sent away all his mistresses including my sister. I had resisted him for more than a year, and it was only after he fulfilled his promise, did I allow him to court me.  The times we were together, he was charming, passionate, sincere.  Our relationship remained unconsummated as he didn’t want me to become pregnant. If I did, he wanted the baby to be legitimate. I had initially been attracted by the power that emanated from him but now I had given my heart, body and soul to him. I knew I would be his for evermore.  Our courtship was secret. I knew he was desperate for a son. He was tired of being married to Catherine who hadn’t produced a son and heir to the throne.  He wanted to be rid of her and I became the perfect reason why he had to let her go.  He set in motion the process of getting his marriage annulled. In 1527, he applied to the Roman Catholic Church for an annulment claiming that by marrying Catherine, his brother Arthur’s widow he had committed a sin. His marriage, he claimed was against divine law and thus invalid. For seven years the Pope avoided issuing the annulment on for fear of offending Catherine’s nephew Charles V, the emperor of Rome.  Henry, based on the advice of Thomas Cromwell and others took the decision of breaking off the Catholic Church’s power in England. Subsequently all the monasteries and nunneries were closed. In 1532, Henry endowed me with the title of Marquess of Pembroke which gave me a status of sitting beside him at social gatherings, a place usually occupied only by the Queen Consort. When his marriage with Catherine was annulled by his own Archbishop of Canterbury, she was stripped of the title of Queen and sent away from the palace that had been her home for 48 years. I was conscience stricken, but none of this had been of my doing. She left the palace, still in love with Henry but impotent against his ruthlessness.  Henry and I were formally married on January 25th 1933. Following our marriage, Pope Clement excommunicated Henry. This break from the Roman Church gave Henry the opportunity of becoming the supreme head of the Church of England.  On the 1st of June 1933, in a magnificent ceremony at Westminster Abbey, I was crowned Queen of England, a dream that I would never have envisaged in my growing up years. Unlike other Queens, I was crowned with St. Edward’s crown, an honour that been previously bestowed only on male heirs to the throne. This was done because I was visibly pregnant by then and we had assumed that it would be a boy. On 7th September the same year, I went into confinement and a beautiful baby girl was born. Both of us were disappointed, we had been so sure it would be a boy. Nevertheless, Henry professed to love the baby whom we had christened Elizabeth. I hugged the little one close to my breast with a powerful surge of love such as I had never felt before. Much as I wanted to, I did not spend too much time with my baby. I wanted to be out of my maternity gowns and go back to being Henry’s lover so that I could present him with a son. I was sure of Henry’s love for me, his attention never left me wanting more, but I was insecure. Inside me was the gnawing fear that if Henry was denied his desire for a son, he would cast me aside just as he had sent Catherine away.  I did become pregnant soon after birthing Elizabeth but the pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. The third time I conceived I prayed that I would be successful in birthing a boy. I did have a son but to my utter dismay, he was stillborn.  By 1536 when Henry’s desire for a son and heir was not granted, he turned away from me. I was aware that his attention had started to wane and he was now wooing my maid of honour Jane Seymour. On the 2nd of May the same year, I was out visiting my sister when I saw a pair of guards approach us. All of a sudden, I felt uneasy. The guards appeared hostile; they did not bow in obeisance as they should to their Queen.  The one in lead had extended a curt hand.  “Please come along with us quietly, you are under arrest.” I didn’t utter a word. Leaving Mary speechless behind me, I walked away with as much dignity as I could muster.  I was taken straight to the court where I was met with a whole crowd of hostile faces.  Chief among them was Thomas Cromwell and I knew immediately that he had been instrumental in this. He was exacting revenge on me. In the three years that I had ruled the country alongside the King, I had exerted immense influence over Henry. He had often overruled Cromwell’s suggestions in favour of my advice. What really angered Cromwell most was Henry’s disregard to his suggestion to transfer all the money gained from closing the nunneries and monasteries to the royal coffers. I knew I had thwarted his own nefarious plans when Henry had taken my advice to redistribute this money to charitable and educational institutions. There was no friendly soul in court. No one I knew had been allowed to be there to support me. I knew I was defeated. What was the point in seeking justice when the supreme head of the country was against me? I stood silently as a barrage of false charges were laid against me. It was announced that the verdict would be pronounced after two weeks.  Now here I am, imprisoned in the place I had spent the best part of my life in. I find myself lying down on my bed in the foetal position. I wish I had someone to hold and comfort me but all I am left with are a handful of maids none of whom I trust. Unshed tears prick my eyes but I refuse to cry. What use are tears when the man I love has a heart of stone?  I have been here since my ignominious arrest on the 2nd.  One of my maids enters my room and I hurriedly sit up. She bows, hands me an official note and leaves. The note is short. It’s the verdict, I have been found guilty on all counts and I am to be beheaded on the 19th.  I feel nothing. Maybe this is divine retribution. I had betrayed Catherine and now I deserve what is coming to me. Jane Seymour is enacting my role now. The morning of 19th is dull and gloomy, reflecting my mood. I have bathed and worn one of my favourite gowns. A beautiful russet silk, that compliments my fair skin and dark hair. I promise myself that I shall not display any sign of despair. The time has arrived. I am accompanied on my final walk by two of my maids via the bridge to the scaffold that has been erected for my execution. I hold no malice towards Henry, I am to blame for having given him my heart and my trust.  It’s time to address the crowd, something I would have liked to have dispensed with, but I haven’t been given that choice. Holding my head high, I speak, my voice devoid of any emotion: “Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law and by the law, I am judged to die. I will speak nothing against it, I come hither to accuse no man nor to speak anything of that of what I have been accused and condemned to die. I pray God save the King and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never. To me, he was ever a good, gentle and sovereign lord. If any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. I take leave of my world and of you all. I heartily desire all of you to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul.” I kneel down in front of the executioner and bowed my head. I whisper to myself, Let the sword rise, let my head fall, let me become null and void.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!