#tower green

[7pleiades7]

The Execution of Lady Jane Grey (1833), (detail), by Paul Delaroche (French, 1797-1856), oil on canvas, 246 cm × 297 cm, The National Gallery, London

[illustratus]

The Execution of Lady Jane Grey by Paul Delaroche

[ctyguidelondon]

That round monument in the front of the photo is the traditional site of the executioner’s block on Tower Green, where Anne Boleyn lost her head. She was then carried into that building behind, the Chapel Royal of St Peter ad Vincula, and buried under the altar. They don’t open it to tourists until the final half-hour of the day so if you want to see her final resting place then you have to join one of the hourly Yeoman Warder tours, where you’ll get led inside by the one of the Beefeaters.

[ctyguidelondon]

If you want to see something truly spooky and atmospheric then try one of the winter Twilight Tours at the Tower of London. A Yeoman Warder lets you in after all the tourists have gone home and walks you round the deserted lanes and lamplit courtyards, past sights like the White Tower, Traitor's Gate and the houses around Tower Green. I don't believe in ghosts myself, but if one was going to jump out then this is where he'd do it.

[pastfutureforeverclub]

TOWER GREEN

The Tower of London

Tower Green is a space within the Tower of London, a royal castle in London, where two English Queens consort and several other British nobles were executed by beheading. It was considered more dignified for nobility to be executed away from spectators, and Queens Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, and Lady Jane Grey were among the nobility beheaded here. Queen Victoria asked for information on the exact location where the executions took place and had some granite paving laid to mark the spot. However, it is unclear whether the location is indeed correct because other sources place it on the current parade ground between the White Tower and the entrance to the current Waterloo Barracks.

#towergreen#toweroflondon#anneboleyn#catherinehoward#ladyjanegrey

[buildingthegrandtour]

Tower Green

She moves like winter in the spring The perfect in-between of reality and dream The world could never see the beauty of my Condemned Queen Seen in her last moment atop the Tower Green

The parchment pages were already filling with the thoughts of Anne Boelyn. History books were being written in the minds of the courtiers, her face and character not painted kindly. They would give a portrait in words, making her seem as ugly on the outside as they saw her on the inside.

The Condemned Queen. She broke the religion and marriage of the Sovereign King to take her own place as Queen Consort at his side. She never granted the male heir she had promised, only a little red haired girl, and her public tantrums were becoming too much for the king or the court to bear. The woman did not know her place. How such a wicked person could rise to her status was fodder for unfriendly speculation. Here, on the scaffold of Tower Green, she will meet her fall.

In one moment every rumor, every preconceived notion that I had of her was shattered into pieces. I knew it was this that would redeem her within the pages of history.

As I sharpened my blade I watched the doors to the tower open. I was familiar with the place from which she had emerged; dark, cold, soulless. The priest and the constable to either side of her added to the somberness of her current position. But Anne….

She walked as though she were coming through the Gates of Heaven. Dressed humbly in white rags, her brown hair covered in a tattered head dress, her feet bare on the cold ground. Yet she kept a regal gait, with no waver in her step, no betrayal of fear in her stature.

I caught her eye for a split second, and I felt I could read her mind.

What would one think to themselves at a time such as this? To know that your consciousness in the mortal world would fade to black in a matter of seconds.

She was not afraid. She had a resolve stronger than anything could think to break. This was the place to where her path had lead. It did not matter whether or not it was fair or just. This was her fate, and she had accepted it.

The sky was overcast, dark clouds rolling in with the promise of rain. The grass was muted to a sepia tone, and the scaffold looked as though it was a hole falling into nothingness. Anne’s meager clothing did not make her less beautiful. She was clothed in the sky. A light broke through the clouds as she began to speak. Her voice was a bell breaking through the weight that held us down. Heaven and earth knew this was the last time her mortal voice would speak, and they were keen to hear what it was she had to say.

The only audience was the king, the priest, the constable, and myself; but the Condemned Queen addressed the Kingdom of England as a whole. The words she spoke were sincere, laden with nothing but the utmost love her King and Country. No tear watered in her beautiful eyes, her voice remained composed through every spoken word.

My hands shook as I covered her face with the blindfold. Covered with the moisture of sweat made the axe difficult to grip, even through the gloves. My step faltered a little bit as she knelt and placed her head on the scaffold without prompting. As she put herself in dying position I heard her quietly repeating a prayer.

To Jesus Christ I commend my soul; Lord Jesus receive my soul.

As she repeated her words, True Faith coloring every syllable, I could feel my own spirit falling into the abyss. A part of me knew what it was in my own life that this path would lead me to. This young girl, the Condemned Queen, guilty of being far too ambitious for her own good. If ever the world would be ready for the likes of her, she was far removed from her time. IT was my place to remove the light that was Anne Boelyn.

Thunder grumbled in the distance as I lifted my axe. I hesitated, afraid to sever her. Was this a test? Would God be angry for the choice I’ve made?

I looked to King Henry VIII, faltering in his own resolve. He may not be able to see her as his queen anymore, but he felt love for her to see that faith. He felt sorrow, for he knew it was too late to turn back.

Only a few hours ago the sun had climbed up to light the sky. Now it was dark midnight, and the world has gone away. Nobody was left there at Tower Green save for Condemned Queen and Executioner. I could feel myself dying along side her, a death of my own merely a stroke of the blade away.

Lightning flashed white, the blade dropping as I closed my eyes against the brightness of the electric sky. Thunder rolled as the killing blow struck Anne’s neck. I stumbled for a moment, appalled at what I had done. I lifted the axe once more, then struck the final, severing blow.

The rain never did come that day to wash away the blood of my Condemned Queen. I never felt the same knowing the full weight of my place. I spent that night sitting on a church pew, muttering a small prayer of my own. As time goes by I will be forgotten, name not even known.

She will hold a kinder place in the history books. It was the path she took, the choices she had made that had led her to the end of her story. She had come to terms with her fate. I hope that in time I will be able to come to terms with mine just the same.

featured in Fictional History available on amazon

[miss-katy]

[indypendenthistory]

Two girls with a guide on the Tower Green where the executions of the Queens took place at the Tower of London, c.1910

(via Spitalfields Life | In the midst of life I woke to find myself living in an old house beside Brick Lane in the East End of London)