William Kingston
Constable of the Tower of London
The story so far…
Week 25: Master of Phantoms (Part 2/5)
When they come to arrest Anne Boleyn:
Outside the chamber, William Kingston waits for her, the Constable of the Tower. Kingston is a huge man, the king’s own build; he conducts himself nobly, but his office, and his appearance, have struck terror into the hearts of the strongest men. He remembers Wolsey, when Kingston went up-country to arrest him: the cardinal’s legs went from under him, and he had to sit down on a chest to recover.
Week 28: Master of Phantoms (Part 4/5)
Kingston reports to Cromwell that Anne keeps putting her hands around her neck and laughing; she makes ‘foolish talk’ about it not raining until she is released.
Week 29: The Book of Phantoms (Part 5/5) / Spoils
16 May. Cromwell visits Kingston in the Tower. The constable doesn’t know what sort of scaffold to prepare, but the French ambassador fills him in: Anne is to be beheaded by the Calais executioner. ‘I am glad of the news,’ he says. ‘My mind. Much relieved.’
‘Did you ever see a woman burned? It is something I wsih never to see, as I trust in God.’
But on the day, Kingston makes mistakes: there is no coffin prepared. ‘He will admit later, he had thought all morning that a messenger might suddenly arrive from Whitehall.’
Week 30: Wreckage (I)
Cromwell castigates Kingston for the errors during the executions. The constable laughs it off, thinking it is a joke. He invites Cromwell to breakfast, where Norfolk asks whether he thinks Kingston is getting past it.
Week 34: Wreckage (II) (Part 1/2)
Kingston provides accommodation at the Tower for Meg Douglas and Tom Truth. He is used to poets: they all write verse. But he thinks it seems harsh that they intend to bring in a law that makes them commit a crime in retrospect. He tells Kingston to be prepared for any eventuality, even if it is unlikely the swordsman will be called back from Calais.
Week 35: Wreckage (II) (Part 2/2)
There is something almost timid in Kingston’s bearing: this man of singular experience, fishing for some inkling of what comes next.