The Death of a Bit Player
Read and weep
Mother was a passionate reader. If Daddy was out of town, I’d come home from school to find her reading. She often read about queens - I remember a book about Elizabeth and Margaret as children - but eventually her attention turned, and stayed, with Henry VIII and his peccadilloes. The six wives, his children. Alison Weir was a favorite. I’m certain she’d have loved The Queen’s Musician.
I’d read enough myself to know about Mark Smeaton, often pictured as effete, possibly gay, but accused of sleeping with Anne Boleyn. If you watched Wolf Hall, you’ll remember how Cromwell tricked and bullied him into a false confession. A bit player, useful and disposable.
Martha Jean Johnson’s book brings a different Mark to life - naive, musically brilliant, he catches the eye (and ear) of the king. Dazzled by the court, by his own rise, he yearns for a lady above his status, an impossible alliance. Most touching, he buys and loves a horse, riding out to freedom, away from the court’s constrictions.
Of course, he has to die as history has decreed. Johnson gives us Mark in a hall with the other accused men as they await beheading; I will never forget their conversation. As Stephanie Cowell, winner of the American Book Award, writes, “A gripping, unforgettable story of the gentle Tudor musician . . . Beautifully written and impossible to put down. I had tears in my eyes.”
How I wish I could share this book with Mother; she would have adored it.