James Forrester - Final Sacrament

The queen could not contain herself but spoke with passion. “My mother never married Lord Percy!” She rose to her feet. “What you are describing is nothing more than a rumor which came to my father’s ears. Do not presume to tell me I should believe such lies.”

Cecil was alarmed by her sudden use of the first person. “Your Majesty,” he said gently, “I suspect you have never been told the full circumstances of your mother’s death.”

Elizabeth stared at him. She saw the beard, the expression of warmth in his eyes, and recognized the integrity of a loyal subject. She resumed her seat.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. You need to understand this. Originally your father decided to divorce your mother, not to have her tried for treason. I myself have copies of the letters sent home by the Ambassador of the Holy Roman Emperor at the time, Eustace Chapuys, who was very well informed. I also heard this from those who were at court at the time. Some of them are still alive-it was only a little more than thirty years ago. The grounds that your father chose for the divorce were that your mother had previously agreed a marriage with Lord Percy.”

“No!” exclaimed the queen, but her protest was one of unwilling belief, not disbelief.

Cecil went on. “The information came from your father himself. There is independent verification too. In 1527, when your father arranged his marriage to your mother, the permission from the Roman pontiff carried a special provision. It stated that the marriage would be valid even if she had previously conducted a betrothal with another man. The reason for that provision was that she had confessed to your father that that was exactly the case. She had been betrothed to another man. Therefore the pontiff agreed to sanction your parents’ marriage with just one condition.”

“One condition?” repeated Elizabeth. “Tell me.”

“That the earlier marriage had not been consummated.”

Elizabeth sat motionless, thinking. Both men watched her intently. She rose to her feet and walked toward the fire. “You are now going to tell me that my father discovered that the earlier marriage had been consummated.”

“He found many people ready to attest that it had been. But you also need to know what happened next. When your father declared that he would divorce your mother on the grounds that she had been previously married-which would, in law, have been a valid reason for divorce-he made a terrible mistake. For no one had considered you, Your Majesty. The law as widely understood and articulated in an Act of 1484, Titulis Regis , rendered the situation thus: because your parents had both been married before to other partners, and because they had subsequently married in secret , you would be-well, you do not need me to speak the word.”

“Say it, Sir William. Say it as cruelly as you can. ‘Your parents’ marriage was void.’ Tell me I am a bastard. Commit that treason-if you dare! Remind me that my father killed my mother for incest and adultery. My father severed my mother’s head from her body. Do you not see that I will burn with the memory of that fact every day of my life? It is as if my father cut me in two as well. I will never be whole.”

Cecil took his time. “I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty, but I have to-”

“And another thing,” said the queen. “ Titulis Regis was repealed. It has been cut from the statute books. No trace of it exists any longer, except in certain old chronicles that we have yet to destroy. It does not apply.”

“Your Majesty,” replied Cecil, “it is not the Act of Parliament itself that is crucial but the law that that Act clarified. Edward the Fifth was deposed because of illegitimacy even before the Act was passed. But you have not understood my main point. When it became apparent that the king was making public the prior matrimonial alliance of your mother, together with the consummation, lawyers hastened to give him advice. They told him that he should not do this. By that course of action, they informed him, he would render you illegitimate and incapable of occupying the throne. That would leave your Catholic sister, Mary, as the sole potential heir to the throne. They advised him to find another way to end the marriage, namely those charges for which your mother was eventually tried. The king, your father, was given a simple choice: to let your mother live in a divorced state and have you declared the child of an illegal union; or to concoct heinous and false charges against your mother and execute her for treason, thereby allowing you to remain a lawfully conceived daughter of the king.”

“Lies!” shouted Elizabeth. “Though it pains me to recall the fact, my father had me declared a bastard anyway, at the time of my mother’s death. If he contrived to have her executed to save me, why then kill my mother and bastardize me?”

Cecil looked at Walsingham. He took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, I am bound to speak the truth to you. There were those at court who wanted your mother disposed of and who wanted the king to recognize your Catholic sister as your father’s only legitimate offspring. Thomas Cromwell in particular hoped that, by making your parents’ marriage null and void, he would force your father to re-legitimize your sister Mary, and make her his heir. Cromwell cited certain just and lawful impediments at the time of your parents’ marriage. He meant, of course, the marriage of Lord Percy and your mother. It makes no sense, but your mother was killed for adultery which, according to Cromwell, she could not have committed, not being properly married to your father.”

Elizabeth brooded. Neither Cecil nor Walsingham could see her face. They heard her slow footsteps as she moved away, and heard the rustling of her dress.

They waited.

When she spoke, tears were heard in her voice. “I never believed the lies they said about my mother. I always believed my father was misled, and that he killed my mother as a result of his fear, his gullibility. You cannot know what it is like-to fear all the time, all the time-never to know who is plotting against you until it is too late. My father’s offense was one of ignorance, I believed, not malice to my mother. But I often wondered why she forgave him on her deathbed, for everyone tells me that she did. At her trial she denied every charge laid against her and then, just three days afterward, as she faced death, she prayed for my father-her killer-and called him a gentle prince, and forgave him, and urged no one to speak against her fate. She said her death was lawful-even though she knew that the charges against her were lies and contrary to her plea.” Elizabeth paused and wiped her face again. “And he betrayed her anyway.” She made the sign of the cross. “Now I can see. She was told, wasn’t she? She did it for me. She reconciled herself to my father at her execution, for my sake. She pretended that all those accusations were true-to save me.”

“That is my understanding, Your Majesty,” answered Cecil quietly. “Your mother’s sacrifice was the last thing left to her. Through her death, she saw she could save you. And even though Cromwell betrayed her, she did save you. Everything would have turned out as she hoped, had it not been for one problem. Despite her final speech and confession, there was documentary proof of her previous marriage. It passed from Lord Percy at his death to the man who conducted his funeral, Henry Machyn, an ordinary man. Machyn gave the document to Mr. Clarenceux. That is the problem we face now. At the time of his death, Mr. Clarenceux had possession of that proof.”

Elizabeth’s mood shifted instantly from one of regret and sadness for her mother to one of cold alarm. “Then where is it now?”