“I name this ship … the Anne Gallant!”
I have named many ships in my time. It is one of the prerogatives of kingship. And I am a king who has promoted a strong navy. My father Henry VII took the crown by an invasion from France, but no one else must follow his example. He founded the navy with five warships, but I have outdone his achievement. I have a navy of 46 great ships to leave to my son Edward. The greatest of these is the warship The Great Harry which is the largest ship ever built. It is a great expense, but only a navy can keep out invaders and seek out the wealth of the New World like Spain and Portugal. This island nation will one day rule the waves.
Today I am naming the Mary Rose in honour of my sister. And in naming her I remember other occasions. Once I stood here to launch a ship with a vivacious young woman beside me with dark hair. I named her the Anne Gallant after my accursed second wife. In those days I considered her a gallant lady and I wanted the whole world to know it too. Her smile was all the reward I needed. I gave her all the gifts that a devoted king could give his lady, including raising her up to be my queen. But these happy memories are outweighed by the darker ones – her miscarriages, her ambitions and her jealous rages. I raised her up and then I cast her down. Indeed, on the day of her execution she admitted that I was a most just prince. Afterwards I ordered all her portraits destroyed, her emblems re-carved, her very memory obliterated. So all that now remains is her ship, the Anne Gallant.
Jane was a far more worthy queen than her. And yet she remains in my mind as a dark-haired beauty dancing in the court, riding in the hunt and standing beside me at the launch of the Anne Gallant in the days before my love turned into hatred and I could no longer bear to be in her company. When she first arrived in court from France I believe that no man could have resisted her. She outshone all the other ladies by her wit, her charm and her learning. She dressed in the French style and drew the eye like a poppy in a field of wheat. She excelled at the game of courtship and indeed I spent seven years in pursuit of her. I swore that I would tear down the world to make her my lawful wife, and truly I did. And in the end, it was all for nothing. Seven years wasted in which I could have raised up a household of fine sons.
As the king it was my duty to have a son and heir. Under normal circumstances I would have been married to a suitable young princess from one of the royal households of Europe as soon as I reached my majority. Instead, I was betrothed to my brother’s widow Catherine which began the tragedy of my life. My miserly father could not bear to return her dowry to Spain. We married when I was eighteen and she was twenty-six. She was too old for me and unable to bear a living son. Without a male heir the nation would have been plunged back into civil wars again. A divorce was a necessity. But neither she nor the Pope would concede it. They brought about the crisis that followed. I only did what had to be done.
But in falling for the allure of Anne Boleyn, I made a mistake. I corrected it with my marriage to Jane who was virtuous and demure as a good wife should be. If only she had lived I would be a different man and not plagued by these memories. I was young and susceptible to the wiles of a clever woman. Anne should have been my mistress – for a time – and then married off. But Anne was proud and ambitious, over-conscious of her Howard blood. She would not be a mistress, only a wife. And she promised me sons. But after waiting seven years for a divorce, she gave me a daughter. And by then her demands and tantrums no longer enchanted me. It was not enough for her to be the queen and she lacked the royal dignity of Catherine. Her temper had turned shrewish.
It is no wonder that I turned to the fair Jane for solace. She was my true wife, not like the others. The birth of our son Edward proved it. I am determined to leave him a strong inheritance. The navy is only a part of it. I have put down all presumptuous nobles. I have vanquished the threat from the Scots. I have made an alliance with Philip of France. And I have made the land free from the rule of popes. The nation is at peace under its rightful king, as it should be. None can say that I have not done my duty. And today I am here to launch another ship, the Mary Rose, who will be the pride of my fleet and keep our island safe from all rivals and pretenders. It is a day of celebration. And yet, in the midst of it, I still find my mind turns back to the memory of that long-ago Spring day when I rode here in joy beside my true love to dedicate the Anne Gallant…
The End