In 1558, however, the miracle happened. On Monday, 28 November, to the cheers of the London crowd and the roar of the Tower artillery, Elizabeth came through the gates to take possession of the fortress as queen. The bastardized daughter of the disgraced Anne Boleyn, with her father’s complexion but her mother’s face, splendidly dressed in purple velvet: Elizabeth, by the grace of God, queen of England, France and Ireland, defender of the faith. Is it fanciful to feel that after twenty years, the mother in the nearby grave in the chapel of St Peter was at last vindicated?
I’ve been a long time fan of the movies, I practically grew up with them. However it was only recently that I finally got inspired to read the books. Right now I’m about half way through the first book and I’m ABSOLUTELY ASTOUNDED at the differences!