Anne became cognizant almost at the same time of her sister-in-law's hatred of her and of her husband's love for Jane Seymour. From that moment she foreboded an early death, and her most anxious thoughts were for her daughter. She wondered what would become of the poor child, and, desirous of having her brought up in the knowledge of the Gospel, she sent for the pious simple-minded Parker, told him of her apprehensions and her wishes, and commended Elizabeth to him with all a mother's love.[289] Anne's words sank so deep into his heart that he never forgot them;[290] and twenty-three years later, when that child, who had become queen, raised him to the primacy, he declared to Lord Burghley, that if he were not under such great obligations to her mother, he would never have consented to serve the daughter in such an elevated station.[291] After consigning the youthful Elizabeth to the care of a man of God, the unhappy queen was more at ease.
=CHARGES AGAINST ANNE.=
Meantime the plot was forming in silence, and two or three circumstances, such as occur in the most innocent life, were the pretext for Anne's destruction.
One day, when she was with the king at Winchester, she sent for one of the court-musicians, named Smeton, 'to play on the virginals.'[292] This was the first count in the indictment.
Norris, a gentleman of the king's chamber, was engaged to Margaret, one of Anne's maids of honor, and consequently was often in the queen's apartments. Slanderous tongues affirmed that he went more for the sake of his sovereign than for his betrothed. The queen hearing of it, and desiring to stop the scandal, determined to bind Norris to marry Margaret. 'Why do you not go on with your marriage?' she asked him. 'I desire to wait a little longer,' answered the gentleman. Anne, with the intent of making him understand that there were serious reasons for not putting it off any longer, added: 'It is said at court that you are waiting for a dead man's shoes, and that if any misfortune befell the king, you would look to have me for your wife.'[293] 'God forbid!' exclaimed Norris, in alarm; 'if I had such an idea, it would be my destruction.' 'Mind what you are about,' resumed the queen, with severity. Norris, in great emotion, went immediately to Anne Boleyn's almoner. 'The queen is a virtuous woman,' he said; 'I am willing to affirm it upon oath.'[294] This was the second count in the indictment.
Sir Francis Weston, a bold frivolous man, was (although married) very attentive to a young lady of the court, a relative of the queen. 'Sir Francis,' said Anne, who was distressed at his behavior, 'you love Mistress Skelton, and neglect your wife.' 'Madam,' answered the audacious courtier, 'there is one person in your house whom I love better than both.' 'And who is that?' said the queen. 'Yourself,' answered Weston. Offended by such insolence, Anne ordered him, with scorn and displeasure, to leave her presence.[295] This was the third count of the indictment.
Lord Rocheford, a man of noble and chivalrous character, indignant at the calumnies which were beginning to circulate against his sister, endeavored to avert the storm. One day, when she kept her bed, he entered her room to speak to her; and, the maids of honor being present, he leant towards the queen, to say something on this matter which was not fit for the ears of strangers to the family. The infamous Lady Rocheford made use of this innocent circumstance to accuse her husband and sister-in-law of an abominable crime.
Such are the four charges that were to cost Anne Boleyn her life. Futile observations, malicious remarks to which persons are exposed in the world, and especially at court, reached the ears of the king, and inspired him with jealousy, reproaches, angry words, and coldness. There was no more happiness for Anne.
There was enough in these stories to induce Henry VIII. to reject his second wife, and take a third. This prince—and it was the case generally with the Tudors—had a temper at once decided and changeable, a heart susceptible and distrustful, an energetic character, and passions eager to be satisfied at any price. Very mistrustful, he did not easily get the better of his suspicions, and when any person had vexed him, he was not appeased until he had got rid of him. Common-sense generally appreciates at their true worth such stories as those we have reported; but the characters now on the stage were more irritable than those usually to be found in the world. 'A tempest,' says Lord Herbert of Cherbury on this subject, 'though it scarce stir low and shallow waters, when it meets a sea, both vexeth it, and makes it toss all that comes thereon.'[296]
Henry, happy to have found the pretext which his new passion made him long for, investigated nothing; he appeared to believe everything he was told. He swore to prove Anne's guilt to others by the greatness of his revenge. Of his six wives, he got rid of two by divorce, two by the scaffold; only two escaped his criminal humor. This time he was unwilling to proceed by divorce; the tediousness of Catherine's affair had wearied him. He preferred a more expeditious mode—the axe.