My Antonia
Disclaimer: I am not a Theologian, a Historian, or a TV Producer; I therefore do not own any thing.
Pairing: Thomas Cromwell/ Elizabeth Wyckes Cromwell, Angst.
Summary: 469 Years ago, July 28th, Thomas Cromwell was put to death at leisure of the King. Songfic, Angst, Thomas/ Elizabeth. Not "Oddments" related.
Note: The Song My Antonia is written and performed by Emmylou Harris (and Dave Matthews), on the album 'Red Dirt Girl'. She is an American Singer/ Songwriter and the song is based on a book of the same name by Willa Cather, an American author, the book is about pioneer America, a few hundred years after the Tudor era but I thought the lyrics and imagery was fitting. Although I did not like the book. /watch?v=Ij5pi2ygmko, this is the youtube link, it's just her song, the footage of her performing is low quality, unfortunately.
There is nothing I can write that is a fitting tribute to the man, but I tried.
He scaled the scaffold, hands before him, manacled, last meal a rock in his stomach. He, like so many before him, was going to die at leisure of the King. Deep inside, he knew this was to happen, he'd known before his arrest, it was karmic pentane. Yet though he knew this day would come he'd not been ready. He was still not ready, though he spoke his final words. Made his final good bye to his son, wrote his final letters. One letter was folded precisely by his secretary hand; it was with the warden, to be given to his son when he was no more. The other letter, also securely sealed, was with him, tucked in his trousers pocket, never to be read by mortal man, simply Elizabeth scrawled across the back.
He said "Oh my love. Oh my Antonia
You with the dark eyes and palest of skin
Tonight I am going from Santa Maria
Wait for me till I'm in your arms once again"
It was a letter to his wife, long since passed on, though alive and well in the transoms of his mind. In it he confessed, in it he prayed. In it he unlocked the heart that had been buried away along with his bride's body, lo those painful years ago. He knelt, his final prayer a plea for absolution, as well as a small personal favor. Tell Elizabeth I shall be in her arms once again. Resolved he laid his head on the block, he closed his eyes and was taken away to another time.
She held me, she kissed me, begged me not to leave her
To cross o'vr the mountains my fortune to win
But a letter now tells me she died of a fever
I'll never see her in this world again
***
"What do you mean?" His wife asked, she laid atop him, petite frame only a slight weight on his chest as they talked, he'd returned from the road earlier that evening, they'd spent the time between then and now in bed, talking as much as other activities. "In a position to provide?" They had been speaking of Wolsey, Thomas's friend and employer. Elizabeth used the man as the perfect example for why the Catholic Church should be disbanded but Thomas could not fault the man, despite his flaws, he was a good and loyal friend.
"I am to go to court as a secretary to His Majesty." Elizabeth's eyes grew very wide, fire reflecting in the ultramarine depths.
"A secretary to His Majesty?!"
"Yes, Wolsey has engaged me for the position; I am to replace Mr. Pace."
"Mr. Pace?" Elizabeth sat up, the firelight overwhelmed by the flame of worry. "Is he not the man who went mad in the Tower? Thomas, I do not want you to go."
"Why ever not Elizabeth? This is the chance of a lifetime. A most prestigious appointment, full of wealth – something we lacked in our youth, I may be able to provide more for Gregory and the girls than we ever dreamed. I may also have the ear of the King, Elizabeth, think of the possibilities. There are already rumors that the King, despite his writings to the contrary would be a sympathetic ear to the true religion. I may be able to introduce him to Mr. Fisher's book." A copy of which sat on Elizabeth's beside table.
"Thomas, the court changes people. The court is dangerous! Mr. Pace went mad in the Tower, I cannot bare to lose you or your mind – tis my second favorite part of you." Despite her sincerity Thomas laughed and reached up, bringing his Xanthous1 bride down to him for a kiss.
"I am Thomas, and Thomas I will always be, fear not my love." He whispered before smiling, glitter of humor in his dark eye, "And besides, what harm might befall a simple Jack – in – Office?"
***
You are my sorrow, you are my splendor
You are my shelter through storm and through strife
You are the one I will always remember
All off the days of my life
***
He could not remember the exact day the letter arrived but he remembered every other detail, he remembered them with every fiber of his being.
The four am sun was a slothful riser next to him as he prepared for his journey home, a week overdue, if not more. Elizabeth had begged and beseeched for his return, her longings so fierce, described in heartbreaking detail. He'd gone to the King at once to apply for a leave of absence but his Majesty had a plan for him. He was obliged to tour the country collecting opinions on Henry's Great Matter. But no more. Not until he saw is wife again. Mounting his horse he set out for Putney, his home, and his Elizabeth.
He did not make it out of the court gate. The black clad rider had ridden all day and all night for him to receive two letters, the first from his son, Gregory.
Dearest Father, this day more grievous news could not be penned. The sweat has broke in Putney, two days ere dearest Alexandria caught the sickness. She passed that eve, followed to God by sweet Margaret. And this day my most beloved mother has joined her children in God's eternal rest.
He nearly fell from his horse, the words shaking him to the core. Dead. His daughters? His Elizabeth? The words could not be true. And yet they were. Pain is the soul leaving the body. The second was from Elizabeth herself.
Husband - Mine, si vales valeo2, although I am not long for this world. I fear this is my final hour, even now I near God's call. I shall answer.
I curse the ambition that took me far from her
For a treasure not ever so fine or so fair
As the flash of her smile or the touch of her fingers
The fire in her heart and the smell of her hair
He ran his horse to high froth all day and all night and still it was too late. He reached an empty home, clothes burned, bodies buried, no good bye for him and his angels. Only her letter, his memory and a ring remained, Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful. He wore it, a part of her with him, as constant and faithful as his heart to her.
He locked himself away during the day, and outside at night. The stars his only comfort her words in his head. He returned to court a half stone lighter and empty inside. Had he gone when she called, heeded her pleas and his heart, none of this would have happened. He would have seen her again; he would have had a good bye.
***
She left me a note that cried "Do not weep for me
Behold you are with me as sure as the stars
That rise in the evening to shine down upon me
Behold I am with you wherever you are"
The court and his life were empty. The gold was cold and the diamonds dead. Riches without values without her, his wife. He missed her for all the rest of his life.
I can still hear him. he calls to me only
What once was begotten shall come to no end
But the road is so long and the nights are so lonely
My soul just to hold him in this world again
He laid his head on the block and felt Elizabeth's strong arms around him. The ax fell.
You are my sorrow, you are my splendor
You are my shelter through storm and through strife
You are the one I will always remember
All of the days of my life
Oh my love, Oh my Antonia
You with the dark eyes and palest of skin
How could I know that night in Santa Maria
I'd never see you in this world again
1. Xanthous – Yellow, as in hair or skin.
2. Si vales valeo - Latin, if you are well, I am well