text: TW: contains descriptions of gore appropriate to the sixteenth century and there are references to miscarriages. A king does as he pleases and anyone who disagrees is a fool. Wolsey, my lord chancellor, who the pope made cardinal, erred in being too slow to deal with “the king’s great matter” which was how the need to legitimately free myself from my first marriage became known. Thomas More who I promoted to the same position, forfeited his life when he put conscience before obedience to the crown. When Thomas refused to take the oath of succession and denied I was the Supreme Head of the Church of England, it was only a matter of time. Both men lost their lives; one before he could be tried and beheaded, and one who actually was. I was sad about More’s death because I learnt much from our religious debates. Until things took a turn for the worse, I enjoyed our little spars. He must have known I had no choice but to have him executed for his treachery - although I showed mercy by transmuting the manner of his execution to beheading rather than the hanging, drawing and quartering of his parts which is the standard punishment for treason. I dream of him sometimes in the dead of night, but that is inevitable with someone who was once a friend. NEVER LET IT BE SAID I HAVEN’T BEEN A JUST KING! ** At first, Anne Boleyn was my dream girl. Beautiful, vivacious, and intelligent, she was going to give me everything I desired. I knew she would satisfy me in bed, but I also hoped to confide in her and assumed she’d continue to support my interests. Above all else, I needed her to provide me with a legitimate male heir. In return she would be my queen, gain undreamed of riches, and her family would be given lifelong prestige. Loving her was a kind of madness. I was such a pitiful wretch I actually trembled in her presence! She must have wanted me, but her refusal to yield and become my mistress made me crave her all the more. She was the only woman who denied me, and it spurred me on. I was crazy for her sweet pert breasts (I called them my doxies). My soul drowned in her bright eyes, and at every opportunity I would try to kiss that fine gazelle-like neck - even when she perkily brushed me away and said, “No, the queen might see and be upset.” Anne created a stir everywhere she went. Her alluring voice and elegant French ways were the talk of the court. She’d first been sent to Brussels, then to the French court, by her father for seven years and returned a true daughter of the Renaissance. She had an air about her quite unlike other ladies of my acquaintance. I knew if I stalked this enchanting creature long enough, I’d win my prize. Later when we were together, she joked she’d had no choice in marrying me. It was boldly devilish coming out with something like that, and I laughed heartily at her archness. She further shocked me by saying I’d “pestered her by bombarding her with letters and gifts” when she withdrew from court for a year. Could she have been trying to escape my advances? Not possible. It was just another ploy. One of her schemes which had me had playing into her hands. And it worked. It made me all the more determined to catch her. Like Jacob who had to serve Laban seven years for his daughter Rachel and then was tricked into marrying his older daughter Leah, I had to wait seven years before I could marry Anne. We slept together a little before marriage, but only when the marriage was certain. Divorce from my first wife Catherine should have been straightforward, but for political reasons the pope refused to grant me one. I grew increasingly desperate. I certainly could never have imagined the trials and tribulations that lay ahead as I fought to marry my dream woman. The very fabric of my country’s religious landscape was being altered as a result of the reforms I made. I could not turn back. Although Anne had been the maid of honour to my first Queen, I did not let that deter me. I can hardly believe I once loved Catherine and did my best to comfort her in her miscarriages. It was only after years of failing to provide me with a male heir, I realised the marriage must have been cursed and that I’d been wrong to marry my brother Arthur’s widow at seventeen. By marrying Catherine, I had unwittingly “uncovered my brother’s nakedness.” In doing so, I had gone against Scripture. For doesn’t it say in Leviticus that if a man marries his brother’s wife they will be childless? NEVER LET IT BE SAID I WASN’T A PIOUS KING! That being the case, I had no choice but to look elsewhere. In the early days, it was easy to pursue Anne at court. When she emerged from Catherine’s bedchamber, I ran after her in the corridors. I ignored Catherine’s tearful pleas not to embarrass her in front of courtiers by flirting openly with her maid of honour. As far as I was concerned, our marriage was over. I had been supremely kind to Catherine in the past, but my patience had long worn a beard. NEVER LET IT BE SAID I WAS NOT A TENDER-HEARTED KING. Shortly after this, Anne retired from her position as maid of honour and retreated to her family home at Hever. Distance is no barrier to a lover’s heart, and I deluged her with letters and gifts. I was amazed when she kept sending them back, possibly out of a sense of misguided propriety. I couldn’t believe it! Most women would have been falling over themselves for half the attention. Anne’s sister had happily given herself to me in the past even if it had ruined her reputation. I knew Anne couldn’t resist for ever and my need grew so urgent I even told the court I couldn’t manage without seeing her. I camped nearby at a friend’s house and besieged her daily. By the time she consented to marry me, they had long been calling her the “great homewrecker” and the “great whore.” An accusation that no longer appears as unjust as it once did. ** I don’t know what I was expecting, but not long after I had Anne, the craving stopped. It was as if all the fire of passion that had driven me had been extinguished. She was better than her sister who just lay there like a sack of potatoes while I took her, but really no different to any other woman in that way. Perhaps after waiting for so long to achieve my goal, I had grown bored. Now she was mine, there was no need to chase. By her second pregnancy, my eyes started wandering a little, but after all I’d gone through to make her my Queen, I could hardly rid myself of her without just cause. For a while, she became more compliant, and we had a few months of happiness. I decided I would bide my time. But when she miscarried again, I could hardly contain my disappointment. The stillborn baby boy lent proof to my doubts. Anne always maintained she miscarried on account of my jousting accident when she’d feared I was going to lose my life. She kept telling me I was never the same after the horse fell on me and I lay unconscious for two hours. Either way, it seemed unlikely she was ever going to be able to give me a son. The fate of my second marriage was now sealed. Ironically, before the miscarriages, Anne had given birth to a healthy girl at Greenwich palace. At least my daughter looked like me! As Elizabeth was our firstborn, I did my best to cover over the embarrassment, but there were none of the expected bonfires and rejoicings a male birth would have merited. I could almost hear the bawdy remarks in taverns up and down the land. No doubt my predicament was a source of merriment at court; I could read the guilty looks and hated the way the talk dried up as soon I entered a room. Secret scornful laughter mocking my failure. ** NEVER LET IT BE SAID I WAS A KING TOO PROUD TO LEARN FROM HIS MISTAKES. The strength of character, the witty personality that had once so delighted me now grated. When I heard Anne laughing with her coterie of male admirers, I felt as if she was insulting my manhood. When she wasn’t doing that, she was accosting me about reforming practises, constantly asking whether some of the money from the dissolution of the monasteries could be used to fund places of education. She said I had agreed to this, but I don’t recall making such promises. Nothing worse than a meddlesome woman! Who was she to harass me? Once convinced our union was doomed, I could think of nothing but finding a way to get rid of this woman who’d made me a laughing stock in Europe. Though it occupied my every waking hour, I came up with nothing. That was when I turned to my right-hand man to see if he could find a solution. Cromwell has never disappointed me. Yet. Unlike More and Bishop Fisher who steadfastly refused to accept the new faith to make me head of the church and were destroyed for their treachery. It didn’t take long for Cromwell to resolve my problem. He has the most practical turn of mind of any man I’ve known. He understood my infatuation for Anne had turned to something else. I had become obsessed with the need to rid myself of this burdensome woman. The woman I had once adored now hung about me like a plague. I could hardly bear to breathe in the same air. In his customary style Cromwell sorted things out and before long Anne was escorted to the Tower where she was charged with having committed adultery with five men, one of whom was her brother! It didn’t surprise me. The pair of them were always sneaking off in corners and giggling together. No doubt laughing at me behind my back! I could well believe her capable of it even though she strenuously protested her innocence against every charge brought against her. She claimed she had never once been unfaithful. She had always been true in word and deed to her king. How could I have been so deluded? How could she have betrayed me thus? How could she have lied so? And how could I ever have fallen under her spell? ** She has been hunted down and will be slaughtered tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. I daresay she will be waiting in a high state of dread, not knowing when it will be. I have already been more than magnanimous in acceding to her request for a French swordsman; that way her end will come swiftly for she only has a little neck. I consider it a final act of kindness towards a treacherous wife who was once queen. NEVER LET IT BE SAID I WASN’T A FORGIVING KING. Tomorrow or the next day, I will wait on Tower Hill for the cannons to announce the witch’s death. Then I will turn horse and ride to Hampton court. I anticipate celebrating with Jane once the deed is done. Jane is not well educated, but she is loving and submissive as a good woman should be, and I plan to marry her soon. I know we will be blessed with a son. I can HARDLY wait.