Like the contrast between what Henry thinks and what Kitty thinks. She is really smart. Wish we could see more of Anne of Cleves in her own tl.
A very different 1540: Anne of Cleves takes charge
- Thread starter Kynan
- Start date
#21 Pox arrives in London
New
Frances Howard – formerly Frances de Vere – held her cloak tight in a carriage that went faster than she knew it could. London was sick as could be. Her husband was dead, and her children would follow. His last letter sat at her breast. She needed help.
She turned to the country.
--
Anne considered her visit to Hatfield a tactical retreat, and by no means cowardice in the face of her husband’s continued infatuation with her attendant and friend Kitty Howard…Katherine Cromwell. Lady Katherine Cromwell. The Countess Katherine Cromwell of Essex, who is Baroness in her own right. The King’s mistress, who had been absent as she gave birth to her son. That Kitty.
Speaking of her son, Henry William was…well, about as charming as an infant could be. He was only a few months old and chubby as a prize pig, but with atop his moon-shaped head was a tuft of golden hair, and beneath wispy blonde brows were two saucer eyes and mouth that seemed build to scream at the slightest of inconveniences. But when he laughed, she laughed with him. Her son was strong and healthy and, unlike the Prince of Wales, completely her own.
Despite her affection for her husband’s elder son, Edward had quickly become less fascinated by his new mother. While she played with him and listened to his babble, the Queen quickly realised how intelligent the child was. A remarkable child. So, she quizzed him on what she knew. Small things, like teaching him Latin phrases, or asking him to name his ancestors. That seemed to annoy him more than anything, and she regularly fled the room as his cries began at the realisation that the world existed before him.
Once, when she’d asked him who his grandfather had been, he’d thrown a block at her and run down the hall, asking why “King Henry” was dead. She’d had to explain to everyone that she was referring to her husband’s late father. The boy wasn’t confused. He was just tired of playing her games.
It might have helped if she was a stronger intellect, but Anne knew her limitations. Much like how she wasn’t an intoxicating beauty ala Kitty, she was also not an academic. The boy had tutors, but she worried they weren’t helping him take advantage of his mind. Particularly without the Lady Elizabeth, who she knew had read to him daily. Mary had sent him blocks to teach him spelling, but considering only some of his attendants were literate, it felt like a useless gesture.
But then again, the boy was barely three years old, and Anne knew her husband had grand plans to educate him.
It was restlessness that made Anne so nosy into her children’s household. The King was perfectly respectful, but there was nothing for her to take on now that she’d born a son. He hadn’t even bedded her once before they’d departed. Nobody treated her as anything more than a particularly successful breeding cow.
So, when Mary Fitzroy had stormed into her rooms, where she was sewing a shirt for the King amongst her ladies, she’d been a little shocked. But prepared. If she had been nosy about the children, she was also nosy about her household.
--
The letter had come from London. Sickness was sweeping the city, and with it, her family. Three of her brother’s children were ill with the pox, while his daughter Katherine had already gone. His wife had come with the letters, cleared of sickness but quarantined away from the household of the Prince of Wales regardless. Mary had insisted on that. Only her letter, transcribed through a window and handed to Mary in the gardens, betrayed just how bad the Howard household had gone. Seven dead servants too. And now, as death knocked on the doors of her family’s future, the King wouldn’t even allow doctors to see them. Her father had referred to it as a common illness and had kept the cause of her brother’s death a secret.
Mary Fitzroy was unthinkably ruffled. The news that her brother in London had died, that in itself was unthinkable. Henry was her favourite sibling, and the loss of her steady companion had put a damper on her time in Hatfield. She’d taken to quietly walking the muddy and grey gardens, remembering a childhood where her often serious spirit was only lightened by Henry and Katherine – both now dead to circumstances outside of her control. She would sometimes touch the ring of silver and pearl that Henry had given her before her wedding, which had promised her a lifetime of joy.
And here she was – alone. Her brother dead. His children dying.
Nobody must know.
Only Mary had the access needed to start to fix this. Her brother’s last letter had been to beg her for support. Send for Thomas in Saxony and secure the Howard line. Bring him home.
She went to the woman with a direct line to Saxony – the Queen.
“Your Majesty,” she swept into a bow, “if I may have a private word with you?”
Queen Anne looked confused, and in the corner, Maggie Douglas led a crowd of arched necks and bent ears. But a raised hand and a heavy glance from the Queen held them back. Mary looked on anxiously, aware of how her neck and ears were burning red with anxiety and fear. Breathing in deeply, Anne raised herself and looked out at the crowded room.
“My daughter and I will walk in the gardens. Please stay here.”
Mary had always found the persistence of her formal position as the “King’s Daughter” ludicrous. Her marriage had been without consummation. At 21, she was a virgin widow. But even sillier had been the Queen’s insistence on keeping her in the royal circle. Baffling, even. But she hoped this forced affection might help her.
They stepped in time, slow enough to not raise more suspicions, with a decent distance between them.
“Your Majesty-“
“Call me…Anne, in the gardens.”
“No. Your Majesty, I need a favour to ask. My father wishes to recall my brother, Lord Thomas, from his role in Saxony.”
Anne coughed, clearly annoyed at her rebuff, but Mary continued.
“We need him home. If it would be possible, I would like to send someone to collect him and bring him home as soon as possible.”
“No.”
“No?”
Anne stopped them amongst the dead hedges, and Mary looked at her in shock. She needed Thomas home as soon as possible. The pox would run its course by the end of winter, and they needed a united front. It was unthinkable that this would happen to her.
“The Lady Surrey has been found in the closest in to the household.”
“The Lady Surrey…”
“Do not play dumb. She and four of her servants were spotted near the grounds of Hatfield.”
“Will she be joining…?”
“Joining? When she brings disease to the household of the King’s children? You are lucky you are not all hanged.”
Anne pulled out a letter from her sleeve. Frances’ letter to Mary.
“How did you get that?”
“I will not be sending for your brother in Saxony. Let him come home when news breaks of your brother’s death. News you were hiding with this letter.”
“Frances stayed away-“
“Lady Surrey brought five men with her. Amongst them, anyone could have been ill. At least one visited Hatfield. If we should all have taken the pox, would you have professed your guilt easily?”
Lady Fitzroy, in this moment, suddenly realised how dangerous this all was. Not for the illness, but for her family. Frances had put her in this position, but Mary’s own secrecy had ruined it all. She’d been so focused on getting Thomas back, that she’d forgotten her place.
“Anne-“
“Your Majesty will do. If you don’t want my affection, then be without. You may join Lady Surrey in the inn. Word has been sent to my husband, and we will be sending the Princes further North – away from where illness lives. Your things will be sent. I suggest you prepare yourself to live away from court.”
The Queen turned on her heels and walked away, and Lady Fitzroy was left alone in the gardens. Clearly, nobody had known the Queen knew. She wondered for how long. It had been barely days since this had all started.
News arrived shortly after Mary had departed for the inn. Pox had taken a dozen lives in London, and several more along the ports. Mary found out then that her brother’s children were all dead. Her father advised her to stay close to the Queen – not knowing her own mess.
She turned to the country.
--
Anne considered her visit to Hatfield a tactical retreat, and by no means cowardice in the face of her husband’s continued infatuation with her attendant and friend Kitty Howard…Katherine Cromwell. Lady Katherine Cromwell. The Countess Katherine Cromwell of Essex, who is Baroness in her own right. The King’s mistress, who had been absent as she gave birth to her son. That Kitty.
Speaking of her son, Henry William was…well, about as charming as an infant could be. He was only a few months old and chubby as a prize pig, but with atop his moon-shaped head was a tuft of golden hair, and beneath wispy blonde brows were two saucer eyes and mouth that seemed build to scream at the slightest of inconveniences. But when he laughed, she laughed with him. Her son was strong and healthy and, unlike the Prince of Wales, completely her own.
Despite her affection for her husband’s elder son, Edward had quickly become less fascinated by his new mother. While she played with him and listened to his babble, the Queen quickly realised how intelligent the child was. A remarkable child. So, she quizzed him on what she knew. Small things, like teaching him Latin phrases, or asking him to name his ancestors. That seemed to annoy him more than anything, and she regularly fled the room as his cries began at the realisation that the world existed before him.
Once, when she’d asked him who his grandfather had been, he’d thrown a block at her and run down the hall, asking why “King Henry” was dead. She’d had to explain to everyone that she was referring to her husband’s late father. The boy wasn’t confused. He was just tired of playing her games.
It might have helped if she was a stronger intellect, but Anne knew her limitations. Much like how she wasn’t an intoxicating beauty ala Kitty, she was also not an academic. The boy had tutors, but she worried they weren’t helping him take advantage of his mind. Particularly without the Lady Elizabeth, who she knew had read to him daily. Mary had sent him blocks to teach him spelling, but considering only some of his attendants were literate, it felt like a useless gesture.
But then again, the boy was barely three years old, and Anne knew her husband had grand plans to educate him.
It was restlessness that made Anne so nosy into her children’s household. The King was perfectly respectful, but there was nothing for her to take on now that she’d born a son. He hadn’t even bedded her once before they’d departed. Nobody treated her as anything more than a particularly successful breeding cow.
So, when Mary Fitzroy had stormed into her rooms, where she was sewing a shirt for the King amongst her ladies, she’d been a little shocked. But prepared. If she had been nosy about the children, she was also nosy about her household.
--
The letter had come from London. Sickness was sweeping the city, and with it, her family. Three of her brother’s children were ill with the pox, while his daughter Katherine had already gone. His wife had come with the letters, cleared of sickness but quarantined away from the household of the Prince of Wales regardless. Mary had insisted on that. Only her letter, transcribed through a window and handed to Mary in the gardens, betrayed just how bad the Howard household had gone. Seven dead servants too. And now, as death knocked on the doors of her family’s future, the King wouldn’t even allow doctors to see them. Her father had referred to it as a common illness and had kept the cause of her brother’s death a secret.
Mary Fitzroy was unthinkably ruffled. The news that her brother in London had died, that in itself was unthinkable. Henry was her favourite sibling, and the loss of her steady companion had put a damper on her time in Hatfield. She’d taken to quietly walking the muddy and grey gardens, remembering a childhood where her often serious spirit was only lightened by Henry and Katherine – both now dead to circumstances outside of her control. She would sometimes touch the ring of silver and pearl that Henry had given her before her wedding, which had promised her a lifetime of joy.
And here she was – alone. Her brother dead. His children dying.
Nobody must know.
Only Mary had the access needed to start to fix this. Her brother’s last letter had been to beg her for support. Send for Thomas in Saxony and secure the Howard line. Bring him home.
She went to the woman with a direct line to Saxony – the Queen.
“Your Majesty,” she swept into a bow, “if I may have a private word with you?”
Queen Anne looked confused, and in the corner, Maggie Douglas led a crowd of arched necks and bent ears. But a raised hand and a heavy glance from the Queen held them back. Mary looked on anxiously, aware of how her neck and ears were burning red with anxiety and fear. Breathing in deeply, Anne raised herself and looked out at the crowded room.
“My daughter and I will walk in the gardens. Please stay here.”
Mary had always found the persistence of her formal position as the “King’s Daughter” ludicrous. Her marriage had been without consummation. At 21, she was a virgin widow. But even sillier had been the Queen’s insistence on keeping her in the royal circle. Baffling, even. But she hoped this forced affection might help her.
They stepped in time, slow enough to not raise more suspicions, with a decent distance between them.
“Your Majesty-“
“Call me…Anne, in the gardens.”
“No. Your Majesty, I need a favour to ask. My father wishes to recall my brother, Lord Thomas, from his role in Saxony.”
Anne coughed, clearly annoyed at her rebuff, but Mary continued.
“We need him home. If it would be possible, I would like to send someone to collect him and bring him home as soon as possible.”
“No.”
“No?”
Anne stopped them amongst the dead hedges, and Mary looked at her in shock. She needed Thomas home as soon as possible. The pox would run its course by the end of winter, and they needed a united front. It was unthinkable that this would happen to her.
“The Lady Surrey has been found in the closest in to the household.”
“The Lady Surrey…”
“Do not play dumb. She and four of her servants were spotted near the grounds of Hatfield.”
“Will she be joining…?”
“Joining? When she brings disease to the household of the King’s children? You are lucky you are not all hanged.”
Anne pulled out a letter from her sleeve. Frances’ letter to Mary.
“How did you get that?”
“I will not be sending for your brother in Saxony. Let him come home when news breaks of your brother’s death. News you were hiding with this letter.”
“Frances stayed away-“
“Lady Surrey brought five men with her. Amongst them, anyone could have been ill. At least one visited Hatfield. If we should all have taken the pox, would you have professed your guilt easily?”
Lady Fitzroy, in this moment, suddenly realised how dangerous this all was. Not for the illness, but for her family. Frances had put her in this position, but Mary’s own secrecy had ruined it all. She’d been so focused on getting Thomas back, that she’d forgotten her place.
“Anne-“
“Your Majesty will do. If you don’t want my affection, then be without. You may join Lady Surrey in the inn. Word has been sent to my husband, and we will be sending the Princes further North – away from where illness lives. Your things will be sent. I suggest you prepare yourself to live away from court.”
The Queen turned on her heels and walked away, and Lady Fitzroy was left alone in the gardens. Clearly, nobody had known the Queen knew. She wondered for how long. It had been barely days since this had all started.
News arrived shortly after Mary had departed for the inn. Pox had taken a dozen lives in London, and several more along the ports. Mary found out then that her brother’s children were all dead. Her father advised her to stay close to the Queen – not knowing her own mess.
Well, that’s certainly a pruning of the Howard family… At least Henry died naturally here
This is how I understood it: The pox swept through the Howard household. Mary and her father tried to hide it, and Mary asked for her brother Thomas to be sent back to England. Somehow, Frances exposed them.
Frances (Lady Surrey) had ridden from London to Hatfield and put Mary in a position where she forgot her role as part of the Queen’s household and now she’s being punished.
