Chapter 38 #3
So it was no surprise, then, when she broached the subject of revising the line of succession.
Once she had gained access to the king’s food and drink, Parr had started putting a valerian tincture in Henry’s wine, just enough to make him more relaxed and agreeable.
The valerian worked well on Henry, making his opinions softer when he was taking it, though Parr was limited to small doses lest anyone else notice their king wasn’t raging about as usual.
He inadvertently agreed that she should speak to some members of the Privy Council about the issue of succession, and Parr set to work the moment they returned from their tour of England in October.
But the bloody Duke of Norfolk was proving difficult to convince.
“Why on earth would we want a woman to inherit the throne?” he asked Parr.
The Council had come together in the Star Chamber of Westminster, and Norfolk was pacing the front of the room.
“Women don’t have the mettle to rule. They are weak-minded and easily swayed.
How could women lead our nation through a famine or a plague or a war? ”[*3]
Far better than your king, Parr wanted to say, but other men were nodding along.
“Your Grace, I am not advocating that Lady Mary or Lady Elizabeth replace Prince Edward or his heirs,” Parr clarified. “I am simply pointing out that the Tudor line is very short right now. Is England ready for another civil war if—God forbid—Edward does not inherit?”
Many of those who were nodding were now shaking their heads.
“This change is merely a precaution, my lords,” Parr continued. “It is right for the king’s daughters to be included, and we all know both Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth are accomplished young women who bring honor to their father.”
Norfolk made a face. “ ‘Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.’ ”
Parr hated when men quoted the Bible to support their narrow, prejudiced views.
Her second husband had made a bad habit out of it, and she had burned all his holy books after he died.
She pretended to look surprised. “Your Grace, are you implying that the children of your king—children who have been raised by him and whose education he has personally overseen—are not fit to rule? That they do not also have a divine right blessed by the Lord himself?”
Norfolk glared at her, and Parr smiled demurely back. She had trapped him rather neatly, for any response against the king or his family could be construed as treason. In the court of King Henry, it was very, very easy to commit treason.
“There’s bad blood on the Boleyn side,” Norfolk said instead.
Parr nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you would know. I had forgotten Anne Boleyn was your niece. Katherine Howard too.”
She was aware the duke had lost the king’s trust over the ordeal with Kat. Norfolk was an ambitious man, and he’d clawed his way back after Anne’s scandal, but to do so twice was unlikely. He was on thin ice, and everyone knew it.
“A perfect example of how women can disgrace their families.” This came from Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester and a man Parr had quickly figured as a staunch supporter of Norfolk. “You can never be sure they won’t ruin everything.”
They reached no conclusion that day. Parr knew this would be the first of many meetings, and that if the Privy Council couldn’t support her, she would just have to trick Henry into it.
Her concern was not whether the change would be made, but that it would go slowly.
And Parr was realizing that her patience ran thin in the court of England.
That evening, she dispatched a letter to Anne.
The Duke of Norfolk has proved to be an impediment to our plans.
He has made fervent arguments against changing the line of succession based on the ill-conceived notion that women are not intellectual or moral equals to men.
Clearly, he is an imbecile, and I feel sorry that you are related to him.
I do not know if there is anything to be done for it, but would you be able to remove this obstacle from my path to hasten our progress?
The response from Anne came swiftly.
With pleasure.
Skip Notes
*1 Ah, my dastardly Parr. I had come to Kendal in search of Eilíse, having heard rumors of a witch in the wood.
(I find it hard to ignore rumors and witches alike.) Eilíse had no interest in leaving her forest but suggested that there was another who might harbor a desire to put her talents to use.
I met Parr when she was seventeen, just before her first marriage.
She remains like a daughter to me, one I love and fear in equal measure.
*2 I’ve often thought it must have been exhausting to live with such a colossal, fragile ego as that of Henry Tudor.
*3 It is women who sustain their homeland while men are away at their wars. Strange that they have never stopped to think of the resources, temerity, and perseverance we possess.