Path to St. Peter ad Vincula: Part VIII-A

Posted on May 17, 2015 by jodmcp

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula: Part VIII—A

Although Elizabeth was still at Greenwich at the time of her mother’s execution, she was soon moved to Hunsdon. Please refer to the blog entries at elizregina.com entitled “Elizabeth: Her Mother’s Memory” https://elizregina.com/2014/01/20/elizabeth-regina-her-mothers-memory/ and “Lady Bryan: An Iron Hand in a Velvet Glove” https://elizregina.com/2014/01/07/lady-bryan-an-iron-hand-in-a-velvet-glove/ for further information about Elizabeth’s childhood at the time of her mother’s arrest and execution.

hunsdon
Hunsdon

It was while at Hunsdon that Sir John Shelton wrote to Master Secretary Thomas Cromwell, on Wednesday 16 August 1536, assuring him he would follow the King’s orders which stripped Elizabeth of the title Princess and kept her in her chamber. Explanations for this included a story that Queen Jane Seymour slandered Anne and said to the King, “Your Majesty knows how bad Queen Anne was, and it is not fit that her daughter should be the Princess” (Hume 72-73).

Many historians believe that Elizabeth was confined to her rooms after her mother’s disgrace because Henry could not bear any mention of her as a reminder of her mother. Others consider that Henry secluded Elizabeth for her own protection against the rumors and stories swirling around Court, a view seemingly supported by French Ambassador Guillaume du Bellay. Du Bellay commented that at a banquet celebrating the marriage of Henry and Jane Seymour, although “Madame Ysabeau is not at that table, the King is very affectionate to her. It is said he loves her much” (Gairdner XI 860).

Bellayguillaume
Guillaume du Bellay

Therefore, under the instructions of her father, Lady Margaret Bryan, Elizabeth’s governess, protected her as much as possible. While Henry was eradicating all trace of Anne by altering, removing or destroying emblems, heraldry, portraits, etc., the Court was avoiding any mention of Anne Boleyn. After her execution Anne’s existence was basically erased. We do not know when or how Elizabeth learned of her mother’s end, therefore, speculation is useless. We do know that after Elizabeth became queen, several chroniclers such as John Foxe were able to tell Anne’s story “at least as he and many of her contemporaries had grasped it at the time” (Zahl 18).

When Elizabeth gained the throne and did not immediately defend her mother’s memory, to many onlookers it seemed strange “that during her long and glorious reign, none wrote in vindication of her mother, which officious courtiers are apt to do often, without any good grounds; so that silence was made an argument of her guilt, and that she could not be defended. But perhaps that was an effect of the wisdom of the ministers of that time, who would not suffer so nice a point, upon which the Queen’s legitimation depended, to be brought into dispute” (Burnet 115-116).

The conclusion that Elizabeth did not defend Anne as proof of her mother’s guilt ignores the work of John Foxe, George Wyatt and others; although, it is conceded that Elizabeth Regina did stress her paternity. Elizabeth, unlike her sister Mary, never passed legislation to restore her parents’ marriage. Why should she? Henry VIII’s will had placed her in line to the succession as did the Acts of Succession, the latest in 1543; she had gained the throne uncontested in 1558; and, as a political survivor, she realized there was no need to bring to the fore the controversy of her mother’s execution. Elizabeth’s usual maneuverings were to watch and wait—and this was no exception. A pro-active stance trying to prove Anne’s innocence was unnecessary and could prove politically harmful.

Oath of Succession

Alexander Aless, a Scottish theologian and diplomat recalled that Anne’s innocence was demonstrated not only by her character but also by no greater “evident proof than this, that whereas she left you, her only child, your father always acknowledged you as legitimate” and nothing could “persuade the illustrious King that you were not his daughter” (Stevenson 1303:46). John Foxe wrote that Henry VIII in his Last Will and Testament did by name, “accept, and by plain ratification did allow, the succession of his marriage to stand good and lawful” (Foxe V 232).

Opposite of the views of Anne’s proponents were those of her detractors such as Nicholas Sander. He deduced that Elizabeth “under the pressure of the fear … that because she was the issue of a marriage condemned by the Church and the sovereign Pontiff, a doubt might be raised touching her birth and her title to the throne” (Sander 241). Sir Thomas Tresham of Rushton described Anne as “the ruin of many pious, worthy and famous men who favoured not that unlawful marriage” (Zahl 13).

Perhaps because of a sliver of doubt in her mind, in 1572 Elizabeth had Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, track down the papal bull of dispensation from 1528 that had sanctioned her parents’ marriage. Queen Elizabeth wanted to have the document on file in case she needed to prove her legitimacy, beyond any doubt. Although this document would not be needed in England, it is assumed by this blogger that Elizabeth Regina wanted to have it for her own marriage negotiations within Catholic Europe.

Heading of the Papal Bull concerning the dissolution of Henry VIII marriage to Katherine of Aragon.

Henry’s marital status with Anne (the dispensation and later divorce) was one of the troubles he bequeathed Elizabeth. The “sole advantage to Henry was that his infidelities to Anne ceased to be breaches of the seventh commandment. The justice of her sentence to death is also open to doubt. Anne herself went to the block boldly proclaiming her innocence” (Pollard 345). Although Anne did not directly address the accusations against her on the scaffold, she did take communion prior to her death and did not confess guilt. To die without confession would have been unheard of for a practicing Christian of that time period. William Kingston Constable of the Tower of London bore witness and reported on the day of Anne’s execution, ‘thys morning she sent for me that I myght be with hyr at soche tyme as she reysayved the gud lord to the in tent I shuld here hyr speke as towchyng her innosensy always to be clere” (Cavendish 229)

Not defending her innocence was seen as troubling to contemporaries whereas modern eyes would admire her. Anne’s “faint way of speaking concerning her innocence at last was judged too high a compliment to the King in a dying woman, and shewed more regard to her daughter than to her own honour” (Burnet An Abridgement 115). She “was, it seems, prevailed on, out of regard to her daughter, to make no reflections on the hard measure she met with, nor to say any thing touching the grounds on which sentence passed against her” (Burnet An Abridgement 114).

As witnessed in a letter to Queen Elizabeth concerning her mother, Alexander Aless stated that the “Queen exhibited such constancy, patience, and faith towards God that all the spectators, even her enemies…testified and proclaimed her innocence and chastity” (Stevenson 1303:27).

Elizabeth Regina and Queen Anne Boleyn

Anne’s reputation, written by contemporaries or near contemporaries, was a study of contrast. Was she a pious, Protestant heroine or lecherous woman “following daily her frail and carnal lust”(Gairdner X 876). Defending her in the immediate aftermath of her death was not a politically astute thing to do with her guilt having been ‘proven’ and, yet, defending her during her daughter’s reign invited accusations of sycophantic behavior.

Could there be a middle ground? Apparently not, even when a Catholic appeared to take Anne’s side, it was viewed with suspicion. Andre Thevet, a French Franciscan, wrote Universal Cosmography in which he stated he had on good authority from multiple sources “that King Henry at his death, among his other sins, repented in particular of the wrong he had done the queen, in destroying her by a false accusation” (Burnet 268). Considering the monasteries, including the Franciscan Order, had suffered at the hands of Henry VIII and inadvertently Anne Boleyn, the influence of this statement is strengthened. What cause would Thevet have to defend Anne despite her pro-French inclinations?

Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Cranmer must have believed Anne innocent of the deeds and her acquired reputation yet as a pragmatist he realized that when dealing with Henry he had to tread cautiously. The postscript of a letter written to Henry at the time of Anne’s arrest covered both angles “I am exceedingly sorry that such faults can be proved by the Queen, as I heard of their relation. But I am, and ever shall be, your faithful subject” (Burnet 262). Cranmer wanted to preserve the Reformation which in its infancy could not be too closely associated with a blighted leader.

With Anne credited for encouraging the Reformation movement in England, her supporters kept her memory alive. John Foxe referred to her as Godly, “for sundry respects, whatsoever the cause was, or quarrel objected against her. Certain this was, that for the rare and singular gifts of her mind, so well instructed, and given toward God, with such a fervent desire unto the truth and setting forth of sincere religion, joined with like gentleness, modesty, and pity toward all men, there have not many such queens before her borne the crown of England. Principally this one commendation she left behind her, that during her life, the religion of Christ most happily flourished, and had a right prosperous course. Again, what a zealous defender she was of Christ’s gospel all the world doth know…” (Foxe II 407).

Bishop John Aylmer, at one time a tutor to Lady Jane Grey, questioned that by banishing Rome from England, was there no “greater feat wrought by any man than this was by a woman?” Alymer was thankful that God had “given Queen Anne favour in the sight of the king” and although he praised many people who were instrumental in promoting the Reformation he felt that “wherefore, that many deserved much praise for helping forward of it, yet the crop and root was the queen, which God had endued with wisdom that she could, and given her the mind that she would, do it” (Cassell 176).

John Aylmer

Raphael Holinshed praised Anne posthumously in 1577. “Now because I might rather saie much than suffcientlie inough in praise of this noble queene, as well for hir singular wit and other excellent qualities of mind, as also for hir favouring of learned men, zeale of religion, and liberalitie in distributing almes in reliefe of the poore” (Holinshed 797).

Even Secretary Cromwell admitted to Spanish Ambassador Eustace Chapuys that Anne had courage and intelligence–“Et sur ce me loucha grandement le sens expert et cueur de la dicte concubine et de son frère” (Friedmann 297).

Anne was defended periodically as records of the following years show accounts against persons who maintained that Henry had put her to death unjustly. An example would be proceedings against John Hill of Eysham. On 26 June 1536 it was reported that Hill claimed that Henry had caused Mr. Norris, Mr. Weston, “and the other Queen to be put to death” for “a frawde and a gille” (Gairdner X 1205).

In France poems were written in her honour, and in Germany the Protestants expressed strong disapproval of the king’s act” (Friedmann II 300). An anecdote about Christina of Denmark, the Duchess of Milan written by George Constantyne, an Evangelical-eyewitness to many of the events of 1536, to Thomas Cromwell revealed the international view towards Henry. Suspicious that “the kynges majestie was in so little space rydde of the Quenes, that she dare not trust his cownceill, though she durst trust his majestie” although she “suspecteth that her great Aunte was poysoned; that the second was innocentlye put to deeth; And the thred lost for lacke of kepinge in her child bed” (Constantyne 61).

Christina of Denmark, Duchess of Milan

For References please see Path to St. Peter ad Vincula: Part I

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula Part VII -A

Posted on November 9, 2014 by jodmcp

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula Part VII – A

May 6, 1536, Queen Anne Boleyn addressed a letter to her husband, Henry VIII, while languishing in the Tower of London awaiting trial. In this letter, Anne upbraided Henry for “cruel usage” while she assured him of her devotion. Queen Anne suggested to Henry that he not “ever imagine that your poor wife will ever be brought to acknowledge a fault where not so much as a thought thereof preceded. And, to speak a truth, never prince had wife more loyal in all duty, and in all true affection, than you have ever found in Anne Boleyn” (“Condemnation of Anne Boleyn” 289). Here was a woman who privately and publically maintained her plea of innocence. “This tenderness of conscience seemed to give much credit to the continual protestations of her innocence, which she made to the last” (Burnet 112-113).

Letter Anne Boleyn wrote to Henry VIII while she was in the Tower May 6, 1536.

Sir William Kingston, Anne’s custodian in the Tower, reported to Secretary Thomas Cromwell that on the morning of her execution, Anne “had made great protestations of it (her innocence) when she had received the Sacrament” (Burnet 114). Twenty-first century sensibilities may not understand the importance of this act but to those living in the Tudor era this would have been very powerful. First, knowing she was going to die soon, Anne would not have risked lying; and, secondly, swearing against the truth while taking Holy Communion would have been unthinkable. In fact when told that Mark Smeaton, the only man accused who confessed to adulterous behavior, had not retracted his statement when on the scaffold, Anne said, “Did he not exonerate me before he died, of the public infamy he laid on me? Alas! I fear his soul will suffer for it” (Gairdner X 1036).

Anne strengthened her plea of innocence by stating that when she shortly faced the seat of God’s judgment she did “doubt not (whatsoever the world may think of me) mine innocence shall be openly known and sufficiently cleared” (“Condemnation of Anne Boleyn” 289). Shortly before her death, Anne declared, “that she did not consider that she was condemned by Divine judgment”(Gairdner X 1070). She “prayed the Judge of all the world to have compassion on those who had condemned her” (Gairdner X 1036).

Lancelot de Carles, an attaché to the French Ambassador wrote on 2 June 1536, “no one to look at her would have thought her guilty” as she “protested she had never misconducted herself towards the King” (Gairdner X 1036). “The queen exhibited such constancy, patience, and faith towards God that all the spectators, even her enemies, and those persons who previously had rejoiced at her misfortune …testified and proclaimed her innocence and chastity” (Stevenson 1303).

Anne Boleyn

It was for naught. Anne was executed and her good name and reputation along with her body. Henry was determined to blacken her character and ensure there would be no lasting loyalty towards her. He certainly succeeded—for centuries. Even during the reign of his and Anne’s daughter, Elizabeth I Regina, there was hesitancy to honor Anne too blatantly. Elizabeth herself seemed reluctant to associate too closely with her mother (Although, the ring, now known as the Chequers Ring, she wore most certainly had the portrait of her mother encased in it—see the blog entry https://elizregina.com/2014/01/, “Her Mother’s Memory.”), yet, as Queen she did much to promote her cousins and those who were part of her mother’s circle, such as Matthew Parker whom she appointed Archbishop of Canterbury. But in the immediate aftermath of Anne’s execution, Henry was in charge and he was going to forge the reputation of his previous Queen regardless of what she had previously meant to him. Anne herself had tried to mitigate Henry’s attitude. In her communication to Henry in May 1536, Anne implored him to “let not any light fancy, or bad counsel of mine enemies, withdraw your princely favour from me: neither let that stain, that unworthy stain, of a disloyal heart towards your good grace, ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife” (“Condemnation of Anne Boleyn” 289).

“The strongest proof, or show of proof, against her, lies in the bitter hatred which Henry evidently bore to her, personal in its nature, and insatiate by her death, until he had destroyed her memory also” (Herbert, Henry 218-219). To marry Jane Seymour, Henry could have divorced or executed Anne. Did he have to do both and destroy her reputation? “If the charages were merely invented to ruin the Queen, one culprit besides herself would have been enough. To assume that Henry sent four needless victims to the block is to accuse him of a lust for superfluous butchery, of which even he, in his most bloodthirsty moments, was not capable” (Pollard 346). Henry was seen as a victim and viewed with compassion. After her death a few of her adherents were prosecuted for “maintaining that Henry had put her to death unjustly” (Friedmann 300). Yet, if Anne Boelyn was truly innocent, “Never since the world began was a dastardly assassination …rewarded with so universal a solicitation for the friendship of the assassin” (Froude 441). Once Henry turned his attention to Jane Seymour, the unfortunate Anne Boleyn, “his innocent and unsuspecting Queen” was “scarified; for she stood in the way of his gratification. She was therefore accused of infidelity to the royal bed, and many a disgraceful story was circulated to calumniate the devoted victim” (Nott 18).

Henry VIII

Anne had not endeared herself to the vast majority of English commoners nor to the nobles, which “could not have made Henry’s difficulties less” (Froude 286). Her “conduct during the last two years had not recommended her either to the country or perhaps to her husband” (Froude 385). Anne had been disliked for her haughtiness and arrogance. Had she been more gracious and less brass, she may have managed to overcome the English peoples’ prejudice against her. She had taken on such a political role that multiple enemies emerged. Henry was easily convinced that “he had fallen in love with an unworthy woman, as men will do, … and even before his marriage, had been heard to say that, if it was to be done again, he would not have committed himself so far” (Froude 386). So why did he marry Anne and break from the Catholic Church? Was he bewitched as Lord and Lady Exeter famously told Ambassador Chapuys that he, Henry himself, believed? Was he caught in the web of religious and political events? Was it his pride? Was he truly attached to Anne? Was he so sure she would give him a son? Was it a bit of all of these suggestions and more? Regardless, marry her he did and destroy her he did.

With Katherine of Aragon dead, avenues of disentanglement from Anne opened up. Henry was freer without the pressure of taking back Katherine if he disposed of Anne and he had certainly reached the point where he was questioning his second marriage. The King was convinced that “the marriage was never good nor consonant to the laws” (Froude 431). Inflaming the situation were the many rumors that resurfaced and the many more rumors that were started.

For References, please refer to the blog entry, Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part I

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part VI-G

Posted on October 19, 2014 by jodmcp

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part VI-G

George Constantyne was a member of the entourage of Sir Henry Norris. As an eyewitness to Anne’s execution, he “was unfavourable to her innocence.” The opinion was not grounded in any information he received from Norris “nor upon any personal observations which he had enjoyed the opportunity of making while holding the situation [in Norris’ household].” His opinion had been “derived merely from the information or belief of those persons with whom he had conversed at the time of the execution” (“Transcript of an Original Manuscript” 54). Yet, it would have been difficult for anyone not to believe the heinousness of the accusations as it was “published in parliament that it might from thence spread abroad over all” (Cavendish II 209).

The Nidd Hall Portrait depicting a more careworn Queen Anne Bolyen.

Surprisingly, one person who leaned toward believing in Anne’s innocence was none other than her greatest adversary, Spanish envoy, Eustace Chapuys. The diplomat, while not revealing his source, claimed a lady from Court “sent to tell me in great secrecy that the Concubine, before and after receiving the sacrament, affirmed to her, on the damnation of her soul, that she had never been unfaithful to the King” (Gairdner X 908). Taking an oath on the sacrament was a very powerful ‘truth serum’ in the Tudor time-period. Recall that the Earl of Northumberland swore in the same manner that there was never a pre-contract between Anne and him. All contemporary chronicles believed his oath as they could not fathom that he could have lied on the sacrament in front of two bishops. Regardless of her innocence or guilt, Anne was scheduled for execution on May 18, 1536, but a delay in the travel of the expert executioner from France moved her death to the following day. Constable Kingston, always faithful in his reports to Master Secretary Cromwell, let him know that John Skip Anne’s “Almoner is continewaly with hyr, and has bene syns ii of the clock after midnight” (Gairdner X 910). Anne was preparing for death in the only way she knew.
Anne would have stayed at the Queen’s Lodgings (g) before her execution.

Events happened so quickly from the time of Anne’s arrest to her final hours it is difficult to imagine her true mindset. How could she have absorbed all the implications and possible repercussions? Was she simply tired of the fight? For many years she had had to watch for enemies, furrow out sycophants, and expend energy maintaining control. Sir William Kingston, Constable of the Tower, expressed confusion by her approach to death. He reported in a letter to Secretary Cromwell that Anne requested his presence to hear her speak of her innocence and told him of her disappointment in the delay in her death. “Mr. Kyngston, I hear say I shall not dy affore none, and I am very sory therfore, for I thowth to be dede by this time, and past my payne. I told hyr it shuld be no payne, it was so sottell” (Gairdner X 910). And then Anne “said, ‘I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck,’ and she put her hands about it, laughing heartily. I have seen many men and also women executed, and that they have been in great sorrow, and to my knowledge this lady has much joy and pleasure in death” (Wroithesley 42). Kingston, being a practical, military man, perceived Anne’s pain as physical, whereas she perhaps was referring to emotional pain.

The burial marker for Queen Anne Boleyn in St. Peter ad Vincula.

It would not be surprising if Anne would welcome release from the terror and sorrow she had experienced over her final few weeks. She had witnessed her brother’s death; she lived with the knowledge that innocent men had died on her behalf (from frivolous behavior that had been construed to condemn them all); she had lost the affection and protection of her husband through divorce; she had relinquished the status and role of Queen; she had been abandoned by many from her entourage –including her father; and, she feared for the safety of her daughter.

Anne’s Arrival at Tower Green
A Portuguese gentleman (who had gone into the Tower and stayed with English friends to circumnavigate the ban on foreigners) wrote to a friend in Lisbon “On the next Friday, which was the 19^th of the same month, the Queen was beheaded according to the manner and custom of Paris, that is to say, with a sword, which thing had not been seen in this land of England” (Bell 105). The King had sent to “St. Omer for a headsman who could cut off the head with a sword instead of an axe, and nine days after they sent he arrived” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 70).

A modern marker at the execution site–although this is most likely not the exact site of Anne Boleyn’s execution. Note the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula in the background.

The day before “the Lieutenant of the Tower writ to the Lord Cromwell, that it was not fit to publish the time of her execution” (Smeeton 46). In order to preserve the solemnity of the occasion this was granted. It was also reported that Anne requested “that she might be executed within the Tower, and that no foreigner should see her (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 70). Consequently, a scaffold “having four or five steps, was then and there set up” (Bell 105). Anne was escorted from her lodgings by Kingston, she reportedly “looked frequently behind her, and when she got upon the scaffold was very much exhausted and amazed” (Gairdner X 911). Was she looking literally for an expected last minute reprieve? Did she think her merciful king would pardon her and allow her to retire to a convent? Despite her physical manifestation of these possibilities, she stated when pressed to confess, “I know I shall have no pardon, but they shall know no more from me” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 70). Anne was prepared for death. “When she arrived at the scaffold she was dressed in a night-robe of damask, with a red damask skirt, and a netted coif over her hair” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 70). The Queen, “assisted by the Captain of the Tower, came forth, together with the four ladies who accompanied her…” (Bell 105). Within the Tower Green “were present several of the Nobility, the Lord Mayor of London, some of the Aldermen, and several others, rather as witnesses, than spectators of her fatal end” (Smeeton 46). Those ‘several others’ mentioned were identified as men representing “certayne of the best craftes of London” (Wriothesley 41).

The grave markers as placed under the altar in the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula.

Among the gentlemen on the scaffold was “the headsman, who was dressed like the rest, and not as executioner; and she looked around her on all sides to see the great number of people present, for although she was executed inside, there was a great crowd” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 70). Then Anne “besought the Captain of the Tower that he would in no wise hasten the minute of her death, until she should have spoken that which she had in mind to say; which he consented to” (Urban 56).

Anne’s Speech on the Scaffold
This blogger must ask for the indulgence of the reader at this juncture. Because Anne’s speech on the scaffold is her last, formal one, it is obviously important. Several variations exist from contemporaries and from later translations—many have been reproduced below. The consistency is surprising with differences mostly in the interpretations based on the perspective of the recorder (such as the Catholic Imperial view). The implications of the intent of her speech will be explored further although there will be no comment on the records as interpretation will be left to the reader.

Our Portuguese source recorded her words as: “Good friends, I am not come here to excuse or to justify myself, forasmuch as I know full well that aught that I could say in my defence doth not appertain unto you, and that I could draw no hope of life from the same. But I come here only to die, and thus to yield myself humbly to the will of the King my Lord. And if in my life I did ever offend the King’s grace, surely with my death, I do now atone” (Bell 105).

Her words arrived at the Imperial Court as: “And as the lady looked all round, she began to say these words, ‘Do not think, good people, that I am sorry to die, or that I have done anything to deserve this death. My fault has been my great pride, and the great crime I committed in getting the king to leave my mistress Queen Katherine for my sake, and I pray God to pardon me for it. I say to you all that everything they have accused me of is false, and the principal reason I am to die is Jane Seymour, as I was the cause of the ill that befell my mistress.’ The gentlemen would not let her say any more” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 71).

Lancelot de Carles, the French envoy conveyed the image of an unrepentant Anne unwilling to go into details of why she was facing death yet eager to promote the reputation of Henry as she “recommended your good king in whom I have seen such great humanity and the acme of all goodness; fear of God, love of his subjects” (Bernard).

The account offered later by George Constantyne was similar to de Carles. Anne declared “I do not intende to reason my cause, but I committe me to Christ wholly, in whome ys my whole trust, desirynge you all to praye for the Kynges maiestie that he maye longe regne over you, for he ys a veraye noble prince and full gently hath handled me” (Mackintosh 385).

The English Courier, Charles Wriothesley showed Anne as pliant, “Maissters, I here humbley submit me to the lawe as the lawe hath judged me, and as for myne offences, I here accuse no man, God knoweth them; I remit them to God, beseeching him to have mercye on my sowle, and I beseech Jesu save my soverienge and maister the Kinge, the moste godlye, noble, and gentle Prince that is, and longe to reigne over yow” (Wroithesley 41-42).

The chronicler Edward Hall presented Anne as coming to die, “for aecqrdyng to the lawe and by the lawe I am judged to dye, and therefore I wyll speake nothyng against it.” She would “accuse no man, nor to speake any thyng of that, wherof I am accused and condemned to dye” she would pray that God would save the king and “send him long to reygne over you, for a gentler nor a more mercyfull prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle, & soveraygne lorde. And yf anye persone wyll medle of my cause, I require them to judge the best.” Anne ended by saying “And thus I take my leve of the worlde and of you all, and I heartely desyre you all to praye for me. O Lorde have mercy, on me, to God I comende my soule” (Hall 268).

Sources quoted later by Burnet and Wyatt claimed her words were as follows: “My honourable Lords, and the rest here assembled, I beseech you all, to hear witness with me, that I humbly submit myself to undergo the penalty to which the law hath sentenced me: as touching my offences, I am sparing to speak, they are best known to God: and I neither blame nor accuse any man, but leave them wholly to him: beseeching God who knows the secrets of all hearts, to have mercy on my soul. Now, I bessech the Lord Jesus to bless and save my Sovereign master the King, the noblest and mercifulest Prince that lives: whom I wish long to reign over you. He made me Marchioness of Pembroke, vouchsafed to lodge me in his own bosom, higher on earth he could not raise me, and hath done well to lift me up those blessed innocents above” (Smeeton 46).

Anne’s Execution
With her address spoken to the crowd, which Antony Pykeryng reported to Lady Lisle in Calais was “a thousand people”, Anne readied herself for execution (Gairdner X 918). Although there are several different descriptions of her clothing, all accounts agree that Anne removed her mantle (or cape) of ermine and her English style hood. She was given a small linen, white cap to cover her hair and after kneeling “fastened her clothes about her feet, and one of the said ladies bandaged her eyes” (Gairdner X 911). Perhaps she and her ladies practiced these acts because tucking her skirts around her feet must have been done to ensure her modesty if she fell awkwardly—something they discovered during rehearsals? This blogger would like to remind readers that during execution with a sword there is no use of a block. Therefore, when chroniclers mention that Anne knelt, she was kneeling as if in prayer; she would not be resting her neck on a block. Granted execution by a sword was traditionally deemed as more merciful than the axe but the strength to remain kneeling upright awaiting the strike of the sword would require a tremendous amount of courage and self-control.

The Execution of Anne Boleyn

So Anne knelt “but the poor lady only kept looking about her. The headsman, being still in front of her, said in French, ‘Madam, do not fear, I will wait till you tell me.’ The sword was hidden under a heap of straw” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 71). Most sources agree on what happened. While kneeling Anne “said: ‘To Christ I commende my soule, Jesu receive my soule’ divers tymes” (Hall 268-269). While she prayed, the executioner called out for the sword to be brought to him and when Anne turned her blindfolded face in the direction of the steps, thinking the assistant would carry the sword up, he came up behind her. And “suddenlye the hangman smote off her heade at a stroke with a sworde” (Wroithesley 41-42). She died as she lived, boldly.

Anne’s Final Path to St. Peter ad Vincula
With foreigners banned from the execution and Eustace Chapuys, the ready source of information, absent from the thick of things due to illness, his reports were not as reliable as typical. He reported that Anne’s “head will be put upon the bridge, at least for some time” (Gairdner X 908). This was not the case. Immediately after her execution, the ladies attending Anne “fearing to let their mistress be touched by unworthy hands, forced themselves to do so” (Gardiner X 1036). They quickly wrapped her body in a white cloth and placed it along with her severed head “into a common chest of elm tree, that was made to put arrows in” (Bell 107). The usually efficient Kingston had not provided a coffin for the body and the case was the only option on hand. After Anne’s body was placed in the make-shift casket “the body was taken by the ladies, and the whole carried” (Gairdner X 911) the short distance to the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, “the church within the Tower and buried” (Hume, Martin “How Anne Was Beheaded” 71).

Exterior of the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula.

For References, please refer to Path to St. Peter ad Vincular Part I

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part VI-B

Posted on July 9, 2014 by jodmcp

Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part VI-B

Arrests, Interrogations and Confessions

“On May Day, suddenly “the kyng departed having not above vi. persons with him, and came in the evening from Grenewyche to his place at Westminster” (Hall 268). Anne was confined to her chamber. “Of this sodayn departynge many men mused, but moste chiefely the queen” (Hall 268). The “seconde daie of Maie, Mr. Norris and my Lorde of Rochforde were brought to the Towre of London as prisoners; and the same daie, about five of the clocke at night, the Queene Anne Bolleine was brought to the Towre of London” (Wriothesley 36). To clarify the prisoners and their Court positions–Henry Norris, Groom of the Stole; Sir Francis Weston, Privy Chamber member; William Brereton (also known as Bryerton), Privy Chamber member; and Mark Smeton (sometimes spelled Smeaton), a musician.

Portrait believed to be Sir Francis Weston

The indictments were made for five men. It is contended that Norris, Weston and Bryerton could not escape punishment as Henry had “no intention, after the death of Anne, to effect a reconciliation with Rome, the three last named might have been allowed to escape; but if he wished to keep a middle course it was his interest to eliminate form the party of the reformation as many as possible of those who might drive it to extremes, and thereby force the government to lean to the other side” (Friedmann II 261-262). On a more personal level, the men may also try to avenge the wrongs against them and the Queen. It was better that they die.

“Besides the persons who were actually sent to prison, a good many others were bound under heavy fines to present themselves before Cromwell and the royal council. They were thus kept in suspense and fear, and could not exert themselves in favour of the accused” (Friedman II 261). Anne’s enemies “searched eagerly for evidence against her, and examined every one who seemed likely to know anything to her disadvantage. Sir William Fitzwilliam and Sir William Paulet, aided by Sir Edward Baynton, seemed to have distinguished themselves in this way at Greenwich, where Anne’s personal servants had remained” (Friedmann II 259). Thomas Wyatt probably was arrested to provide evidence, not to be condemned. When Cromwell discovered that he had not been in close communication with Anne for years, he wrote Sir Henry Wyatt “that the young man would be spared. It was decided, too, that Sir Richard Page, who was connected with the Fitzwilliams and the Russels should be allowed to escape” (Friedmann II 262).
Sir Henry Norris had been “in the King’s favour, and an offer was made him of his life, if he would confess his guilt, and accuse the Queen. But he generously rejected that unhandsome proposition, and said that in his conscience he thought her innocent of these things laid to her charge but whether she was or not, he would not accuse her of any thing, and he would die a thousand times rather than ruin an innocent person” (Ellis 65-66).

Mark Smeaton was the only man who was arrested who “confessed to inappropriate behavior toward the Queen” (Burnet 110-111). His confession was the only solid evidence that Cromwell had. It has been suggested that Smeaton was promised a pardon if he pled guilty and implicated Anne. There is speculation that he confessed under torture, an interrogation technique that would have been readily used against the commoner. Because he did not recant at the scaffold, there is a theory that, in the exchanges he had with Anne (which she talks about while in the Tower), he responded familiarly and his haughtiness earned him a rebuke. Perhaps realizing he was not going to be pardoned, Smeaton decided to gain revenge on Anne by confessing to adultery (Davies). If revenge was his motive, he was successful.

While at Greenwich Anne learned that Norris and Smeaton had been arrested. “Combining these facts with Henry’s growing coldness to herself, and his increasing affection for Jane Seymour, Anne began to fear that she would have to take the same way. She was absolutely without means of defence” (Friedmann II 252). Anne herself would try to put a positive spin on her situation and claim that “the most par of Yngland prays for me, and yf I dy you shall se the grettest punishment for me withyn thys vij yere that ever cam to Yngland,’ & then she syad I shall b ein heaven, for’ I have done mony gud dedys in my days…” (Cavendish 223-225). This was not the case. With Henry away at Westminster, she could not use her influence on him. Coupled with his physical distance, most courtiers went with him including not only her enemies but also her allies. Friedman implies that Anne’s brother, Lord Rochford, would use his talents to defend his sister in any way he could which explains his arrest. Her father “had always disapproved of his daughter’s bold and violent courses. There was, therefore, no reason to fear that he would try to defend her” (Friedmann II 254).

Greenwich Palace

Anne could not flee from her confinement at Greenwich as this would have proven unsafe to do if not impossible without resources and it would have been an admission of guilt (for whatever was her crime). The Queen was not left in the dark for long. On May 2, 1536, she was summoned before the council. Anne would later claim that she “was creuely handeled …. at Greweche with the kyngs counsel” (Cavendish 223-225). The Queen was interrogated and charged with treason and adultery. Protestations of innocence had no effect and she was arrested and told she would be taken to the Tower. “At two o’clock her barge was in readiness, and in broad daylight, exposed to the gaze of the populace who had assembled on the banks or in boats and barges, she was carried along the river to traitors’ gate” (Friedmann II 253).

Spanish Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, was giddy when he wrote his official report on the day of Anne’s arrest that it was “still more wonderful to think of the sudden change from yesterday to today, and the manner of the departure from Greenwich” (Gairdner X 782). His exuberance was not masked when he said things had “come to pass much better than anybody could have believed, to the great disgrace [of the Concubine], who by the judgment of God has been brought in full daylight from Greenwich to the Tower of London, conducted by the duke of Norfolk, the two Chamberlains, of the realm and of the chamber, and only four women have been left to her. The report is that it is for adultery” (Gairdner X 782).

Conveyance to and Time in the Tower

Upon arriving at the Tower Anne exclaimed loudly, “I entered with more ceremony the last time I came” (Hume 64). She maintained her composure up to the time the gates were closed when she asked the Constable of the Tower, William Kingston, if he “was leading her to a dungeon” (Friedmann II 255). When he assured her he was taking her to the rooms she occupied before her coronation, “this somewhat relieved her distress. ‘It is too good for me,’ she exclaimed.” Then her nerve did falter when she came to the “court gate, entering in, she fell downe on her knees before the said lords, beseeching God to helpe her as she was not giltie of her accusement, and also desired the said lords to beseech the Kinges grace to be good unto her, and so they left her their prisoner” (Wriothesley 36).

Byward Tower–the most likely entrance of Anne Boleyn into the Tower of London

Once in her apartments she made inquiries about her brother, she asked for the eucharist to be brought in to a room nearby so that she could pray, and she “began to assert her innocence of the crimes with which she was charged” (Freidmann II 256).

According to an anonymous Spanish report, when examined she professed her innocence and asserted that she knew what was the cause of her arrest. “I have never wronged the King, but I know well that he is tired of me, as he was before of the good lady Katharine.” She exclaimed that “the King has fallen in love, as I know, with Jane Seymour, and does not know how to get rid of me. Well, let him do as he likes, he will get nothing more out of me” (Hume 65). William Lancelot expressed Anne’s anguish in his poem. With no further hope, she would confess to nothing. “Riens ne confesse, et ne resiste fort Comme voulant presque estre délivre De vivre icy, pour aulz cieulz aller vivre; Et l’espoir tant en icelle surmonte, Que de la mort ne tient plus aucun compte” (Gairdner X 1036)

“Anne herself was not examined any further. At first orders had been issued that, except in the presence of Lady Kingston, she was to hold no communication with the four women deputed to serve her; but it was soon decided that this would neither be practicable nor expedient. So her attendants were allowed to talk with her, on condition that everything of any importance which she might say to them should be reported to the constable. In a state of hysterical excitement Anne was unable to weigh her words and to control her tongue” (Friedmann II 259). Sometimes “she laughed, and at other times she wept excessively; she was also devout and light by turns; and sometimes she stood upon her vindication, and at other times she confessed some indiscretions, which she afterwards denied” (Burnet 110).

“On the morning after her arrest she spoke of Noreys, and told Mrs. Cosyns, one of her attendants, of the conversation she had had with him. She then talked of Weston, whose indiscretion she seemed greatly to fear” (Friedmann II 259). This whole conversation (and those that ensued) was immediately reported to Kingston, who in his turn sent an account to Cromwell—several are reproduced below.

A relatively contemporary image (circa 1553) of the Tower of London

“Thy sys to advertyse you upon my Lord of Norfolk and the kyngs counsell depart[inge] from the Towre I went before the queen in to hyr lodging, & [then she] sayd unto me, M. Kyngston, shall I go in to a dungyn? Now, madam, y[ou] shall go into your logyng that you lay in at your cornonacion. It ys to gu[de] for me, she sayd, Jesu, have mercy on me; and kneled downe wepyng a [great] pace, and in the same sorow fell in to agret lawyng, and she hathe done [so] mony tymes syns. And then she desyred me to move the Kyngs hynes that she [myght] have the sacrament in the closet by hyr chambr, that she my[ght pray] for mercy, for I am as clere from the company of man, as for s[yn, sayd she as I] am clere from you, and am the kyngs trew wedded wyf; and then sh[e sayd] M. Kyngston, do you know wher I am here, and I sayd, Nay, and then [she sayd] when saw you the kyng? And I sayd, I saw hym not syns I saw [him in] the Tylte yerde, and then M. K. I pray you to tell me wher my [Lord Roch]ford ys? And I told hyr I saw hum afore dyner in the cort. O [where ys] my set brod’er? I sayd I left hym at York place, and so I dyd. I [hear say, say]d she, that I shuld be accused with iij men; and I can say [no more but] nay, withyowt I shuld open my body; and there with opynd [her gown saying, O Nor]res, hast thow accused me, thow ar in the Towre with me, & [thou and I shal]l dy to gether: and, Marke, thou art here to. O my mother, [thou wilt dy] for sorrow, and meche lamented my lady of Worcet, for by ca[urse her child] dyd not store in hyr body, and my wyf sayd what shuld [be the cawse, she] sayd for the sorrow she toke for me: and then she sayd M. K[ingston, shall I dy] with yowt just; & I sayd, the porest sugett the kung [hath had justis, and] ther with she lawed. All thys sayings was yeter ny[ght]……. & thys moryng dyd talke with mestres Cousyns [and said that Nor]res dyd say on Sunday last unto the queens amn[er, that he wold sw]ere fro the queen that she was a gud woman. [And then sayd Mrs.} Cosyn, Madam, why shuld ther be hony seche maters [spoken of? Mary,] syad she, I had hym do so, for I asked hym why he [went not through with] hys maryage? And he made ansur he would tary [a time. Then said she, you’ loke for ded mens showys; for yf owth cam[e to the king but good,] you would loke to have me; and he sayd, yf he [should have any soch though,] he wold hys hed war of; and then she sayd, [she could undo him if she wold,] and ther with thay fell yowt. Bot [she said, she more feared Weston; for] on Wysson Twysday last [Westong told he]r that Nores cam more u[nto her chawmbre for her then….

Wher I was commanded to charge the gentlewomen that y gyf thaye atende apon the queen, that ys to say, Thay shuld have now commynycaseon with hyr, in lese my wyf ware present, and so I dyd hit, notwithstaundyng it canot be; for my lady Bolen and mestrys Cosyn lyes on the queens palet, and I and my wyf at the dore with yowt, so that thay most nedes talke that be without” (Cavendish 223-225).

Anne’s natural intelligence would have sparked in her the realization that anything she said or did in confinement would most likely be reported to the authorities. Yet, she could not keep her chaotic thoughts to herself and spoke of her previous encounters with the accused men. To which Kingston would add postscripts explaining her further revelations. He informed Cromwell that “syns the making of thys letter the queen spake of Weston that she had spoke to hym by cause he dyd love hyr kynswoman Mrs. Skelton and that she sayd he loved not hys wyf; and he made anser to hyr again that he loved won in hyr howse bettr than them bother; she asked him who is that? To which he answered that it ys your self; and then she defied hym” (Cavendish II 217-220).

Mary Shelton, attributed to Hans Holbein the Younger

Days later Kingston wrote to Cromwell concerning the discussion of Jane Boleyn, and Anne’s further encounters with Mark Smeaton and Thomas Wyatt.

“Quene said unto me that same nyght that the Kyng wyst what he dyd when he put such ij. abowt hyr as my lady Boleyn and Mestres Cofyn; for thay cowd tell her now thynge of my Lord her father, nor nothynge ellys, bot she defyed them alle. But then upon this my lady Boleyn sayd to hyr, Seche desyre as you have had to such tales hase browthe you to thys, and then sayd Mrs. Stoner, Mark [Smeaton] ys the worst cherysshe of hony an in the house, for he wayres yernes. She sayd that was because he was no gentelman; bot he wase never in my chamber but at Winchester, and there] she sent for hym to play on the virginals, for there my logynge was above the King’s for I never spake with hym syns bot upon Saterday before Mayday; and then I fond hym standyng in the ronde wyndo in my chambre of presens. And I asked why he wase so sad, and he ansured and sayd it was now mater; and then she sayd, You may not loke to have me speke to you as I shuld do to a nobulle man by cause you be aninferor person. No, no, madam, a loke sufficed me, and thus fare you welle. She hathe asked my wyf whether hony body makes thayr beddes, and my wyf ansured and sayd, Nay, I warant you; then she sayd thay myght make balettes well now, bot ther ys non bot . . . . . . de that can do it. Yese, sayd my wyf, Master Wyett by . . . . . . . sayd trew. . . . . . my Lorde my broder wille dy . . . ne I am sure thys was as . . . tt downe to dener thys day. Will’m Kyngston” (Gairdner X 798).

For references, please refer to the blog entry, Path to St. Peter ad Vincula-Part I

Elizabeth Regina: Her Mother’s Memory

Posted on January 20, 2014 by jodmcp

Elizabeth: Her Mother’s Memory

Elizabeth at the age of two years and eight months upon the death of her mother, probably never had concrete recollections of her mother Anne Boleyn. There is no evidence that Anne Boleyn was mentioned by any of Elizabeth’s household members during her childhood. It is pure speculation as to which adults told the youngster about her mother and when she would have possibly learned about Anne’s execution and the scandalous reasons for it. There are plenty of assumptions that Henry had placed a moratorium on the subject of Anne Boleyn which would not be implausible, but what is conjecture is based on the fact that Elizabeth was confined to her estate because Henry could not bear the sight of her and wanted no remembrance of her or her mother. We know Sir John Shelton assured Cromwell on Wednesday 16 August 1536 from Hunsdon that he would ensure “the King’s pleasure that my lady Elizabeth shall keep her chamber and not come abroad, and that I shall provide for her as I did for my lady Mary when she kept her chamber” (Gairdner XI 312). We know Elizabeth remained secluded at Hunsdon; we just do not know why—it could have been Henry trying to protect her from court gossip.

Thomas Cromwell

Lady Bryan, in August 1536, had already questioned Cromwell on the status of her charge. “Now, as my lady Elizabeth is put for that degree she was in, and what degree she is at now, I know not but by hearsay, I know not how to order her or myself, or her women or grooms” (Gairdner XI 203). Obviously, there was some confusion in her household. Even Elizabeth was confused; when a gentleman of her household, often identified as either Sir John Shelton or Sir Thomas Bryan, referred to her by the demoted title of Lady Elizabeth, she responded “how haps it, Governor, yesterday my Lady Princess, and today but my Lady Elizabeth?” (Hibbert 20). An astute child such as this would have understood the danger of asking questions about her mother or even mentioning her.

There are only two recorded times when Elizabeth mentioned her mother in public. One was when she was 20 and hinted to the Spanish ambassador that she was disliked by Mary because of the distress her mother had caused. The second was when she informed the Venetian ambassador that her mother would never have cohabitated with the king without the ties of matrimony (Weir The Children of Henry VIII 7). Is this anemic display evidence that she did not have any feelings for her mother or that she did not want to be associated with Anne? Probably not. It would not have been politically wise for Elizabeth to be linked too often and too closely with Anne Boleyn so one can understand the lack of mention by an aware and intelligent child. This did not mean complete elimination of connections and when she was more secure as queen, several examples are in evidence of her identification with her mother although the earliest example comes when she was about ten.

Princess Elizabeth

This early example was when she wore the ‘A’ necklace in the painting, “The Family of Henry VIII.” Supposedly this was “one of Anne Boleyn’s initial pendants” that was inherited from Elizabeth’s mother (Weir Lady in the Tower 306).

Jewelry was one way that Elizabeth showed her relationship with her mother.
Anne Boleyn was said to have three pendants of initials; an “A”, a “B”, and an “AB”. The “B” necklace is the most famous and is in portraits displayed at the National Portrait Gallery and Hever Castle more readily validated as representative of Anne. The “AB” is perhaps in a less famous painting; one not completely authenticated as Anne, and is referred to as the Nidd Hall portrait.

Anne Boleyn, National Portrait Gallery

Anne Boleyn, ‘Hever Castle Portrait’ a copy of the lost original painted in 1534

Anne Boleyn, ‘Nidd Hall Portrait’ with the pendent of ‘AB’ hanging upon her gown
It is claimed that Elizabeth was wearing the “A” necklace in “The Family of Henry VIII” painting that hung in Hampton Court. (Weir Henry VIII: The King and His Court 187). This blogger must disagree with some reports that she was wearing the necklace in defiance of her father. He had full control of all of his public imagery. I cannot imagine the artist risking his life, quite literally, by painting in the “A” if it was not sanctioned by Henry. It is hard to imagine that Elizabeth would so blatantly wear this piece of jewelry without Henry’s permission. This blogger could start an unsupported theory that this could be the cause of Elizabeth’s exile from 1543 to 1544 (see blog entry “The Fourth Step-Mother of Elizabeth, Katherine Parr” at https://elizregina.com/2013/06/04/the-fourth-step-mother-of-elizabeth-katherine-parr/). This is clearly on a weak foundation considering the painting, according to Roy Strong, was completed between 1543 -1547. If Henry became incensed enough to banish his daughter for wearing an inherited item of jewelry from her disgraced mother, surely he would have ordered it painted out of the completed picture. Perhaps allowing Elizabeth to display this necklace was a kind gesture on the king’s part or it was a tactic wanting everyone to associate the girl with her mother and her illegitimacy, in contrast to the legitimate heir next to him.

The Family of Henry VIII

An enlargement obtained by Flickr of the princesses

Apart from the wearing of one of Anne Boleyn’s necklaces, another piece of jewelry associated with Elizabeth and her mother is the Chequers ring. Dated to around 1575 the Chequers Ring, thus named as it is now in the possession of that estate, clearly has a diamond encrusted ‘E’ and ‘R’ on the face. The locket opens to reveal a portrait of Elizabeth and an unidentified woman, usually and logically identified as Anne Boleyn; although, speculation ranges from it being a younger Elizabeth to Katherine Parr. The history of the ring is too sketchy for this blogger to comfortably say that Elizabeth commissioned it as opposed to a courtier. It is also difficult to agree with Weir, and many other writers who claim the ring “was only removed from her finger at her death, when it was taken to her successor, James VI of Scotland, as proof of her demise” (Weir Lady in the Tower 306). There is no definitive proof that Elizabeth constantly wore the ring or that it was the particular jewel taken to Scotland by Robert Carey.

Chequers ring–this blogger was fortunate to see this locket ring at “Elizabeth: The Exhibition at the National Maritime Museum” in Greenwich on August 8, 2003.

Another way Elizabeth linked to her mother was the use of her mother’s heraldic badge the crowned falcon upon a tree stump, surrounded by Tudor roses. Although this was not implemented consistently as Elizabeth’s badge, there are several places it is displayed and on several items such as her virginal. The spinet “bears the royal coat of arms and the falcon holding a scepter, the private emblem of her mother, Anne Boleyn” (“The Queen Elizabeth Virginal”). It is also speculated that Elizabeth adopted one of Anne’s mottoes, Semper eadem. This is discussed on the blog “Said it, Believed it, Lived it” at https://elizregina.com/2013/06/25/said-it-believed-it-lived-it/.

Virginal of Elizabeth I, the Boleyn badge is on the left.

Elizabeth continued her links with her mother by promoting members of Anne’s household staff, Matthew Parker as Archbishop of Canterbury and relatives; notably the Careys, Knollyse, Sackvilles and even Howards until their alliance to Catholicism made it politically impossible. Anne was also commemorated in a biography by William Latymer and in an unfinished treatise by George Wyatt (Weir, The Lady in the Tower 307-308).

A way in which Elizabeth kept her mother’s influence alive was in her understanding of the benefits and necessity of display. “Between Anne and Elizabeth there was an uncanny similarity of attitude towards the projection of monarchy, and of themselves as chosen by God to rule” (Ives 218). It is estimated Anne spent £40* a month mostly on clothes for herself and Elizabeth (Ives 217). Had Anne lived, her wardrobe would have “rivalled the 2000 costumes which tradition assigns to that most fashion-conscious of monarchs, her daughter Elizabeth” (Ives 253). Catholic chronicler, Nicholas Sander, no friend of Anne’s, conceded that she “was always well dressed, and every day made some change in the fashion of her garments” (Sander 25).

Anne has been criticized for having such an active interest in her daughter’s wardrobe; one wonders if this was an area in which she could direct her wishes and so she did. Taking an inordinate amount of care in the purchase of materials and the ordering of garments for her child was perhaps the method of bestowing attention that was socially and politically acceptable for Anne.

We have a dispatch that Sir William Loke, mercer and merchant adventurer who supplied the king with clothes of gold, silver and other luxurious fabrics and performed diplomatic missions on his buying trips abroad, wrote personally to the king in February 1534: “The sale of cloths by your subjects has been good, but money is scarce. I trust I have done my best to provide such things as the Queen gave me commission for” (Gairdner VIII 197). Loke kept extensive account records (published in the text, An Account of Materials Furnished for Use of Queen Anne Boleyn and the Princess Elizabeth, by William Loke ‘the King’s Mercer’ Between the 20^th January 1535 [27^th year of Henry VIII], and the 27^th April 1536. Communicated by J. B. Heath) which reveal clothing being sent to the princess. It was obvious that the “king’s heir, who was not yet three years old, was quite properly to be dressed in fashionable and expensive clothing” (Warnicke 170).

An example of elaborate clothing worn by Elizabeth in the ‘Armada Portrait’.

In Anne’s account books of May 19, 1536, are entries for payment for “boat-hire form Greenwich to London and back to take measure of caps for my lady Princess, and again to fetch the Princess’s purple satin cap to mend it.” Anne, apparently, was especially fussy about her daughter’s caps: this particular one required at least three journeys to Greenwich to get it right” (Ives 253). Included in the accounts was “an ell of ‘tuke’ and crimson fringe for the Princess’s cradle head.” Added to this finery was “a fringe of Venice gold and silver for the little bed.” Included were more assorted caps, white, crimson, purple and a “cap of taffeta covered with a caul of damask gold for the Princess” (Gairdner X 913).

Queen Anne Boleyn never had a full say in her child’s upbringing. That was the business of the king and his council. Famously, when it came to decide if Elizabeth should be weaned, her governess wrote to Thomas Cromwell for permission (Warnicke 170). We do know from William Latymer, chaplain to Anne Boleyn who wrote Chronickille of Anne Bulleyne during the reign of Elizabeth, reported that Anne “had wanted her child, as her elder half-sister had been, trained in classical languages” (Warnicke 171). When Anne realized that she was in serious danger of losing her life she gave unto Matthew Parker, her devoted chaplain and later Archbishop of Canterbury during the reign of Elizabeth, the care of her child. This move can be seen as her wish for Elizabeth to have not only a classical education but also a more evangelical religious upbringing.

Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury during the reign of Elizabeth

Besides directing Elizabeth’s wardrobe and directing her education, how else did Anne bestow attention on her daughter? This is impossible to know. Following standards of the day, Elizabeth was removed from her parents’ household when she was three months old. She was sent to her own residence, Hatfield, with a wet-nurse and her governess, Margaret Bourchier, Lady Bryan. “Here and at Hunsdon in Hertfordshire the princess spent much of her childhood although, like her parents, she traveled from house to house, staying in such places as Richmond, Eltham, Langley,and the More” (Warnicke 170). Contemporary records indicate that Anne did visit regularly as we see from a letter written by Sir William Kyngston, courtier and Constable of the Tower of London, to Lord Lisle, Arthur Plantagenet on 18 April 1534. “To day the King and Queen were at Eltham, and saw my lady Princess, as goodly a child as hath been seen and her grace is much in the King’s favour as goodly child should be, God save her” (Gairdner VII 509).

The visits were not always private, as we would assume between a mother and her child as Eustace Chapuys mentions in a dispatch to Charles V on 24 October 1534. “On Thursday, the day before yesterday, being at Richmond with the little lass (garce) the Lady came to see her said daughter, accompanied by the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk and others, including some of the ladies, which was a novelty” (Gairdner VII 1297). Besides these visits, Anne was in contact with Lady Bryan through letters concerning the care of Elizabeth (Ives 256). A response to a request from Elizabeth’s household officers to the Council was sent in a packet with “letters to them, and one from the Queen to lady Brian” (Gairdner IX 568).

Richmond Palace, 1562

Speculation is futile regarding the feelings both mother and daughter felt for each other; no written records exist. Anne, following the social dictates and court etiquette of the day, rarely saw her daughter. Not only was Elizabeth reared by people other than her parents, she was physically removed from them, as was her siblings so some people placing emphasis on the fact she was taken to Hatfield at the age of three months was proof her mother was as disappointed as her father in her birth. Henry’s treasured heir, Edward, was also reared in a separate household. Evaluation of those persons surrounding the infant Elizabeth does lend itself to assume a strong influence of Anne. Many had Boleyn connections: Lady Margaret Bryan was not only Princess Mary’s former governess but related to Anne as they shared a maternal grandmother; Lady Shelton, also from Princess Mary’s household and given charge of the combined establishment of Mary and Elizabeth was Anne’s Aunt; and Kat Ashley nee Champernowne was married to Anne’s cousin. After Anne Boleyn’s execution, Henry did not alter the positions of these people closest to Elizabeth. He too must have trusted them and was not worried about how Anne would be portrayed to their daughter by ‘Boleyn’ servants. Elizabeth would later comment that “we are more bound to them that bringeth us up well than to our parents… our bringers-up are a cause to make us live well in [the world]” (Marcus 34).

*£40 from 1535 would be £19,000.00 using the retail price index or£266,000.00 using average earnings based on calcualtions from the “Measuring Worth” website.

References:

Brewer, J. S. (editor). “Henry VIII: November 1517.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 2: 1515-1518 (1864): 1183-1198. British History Online. Web. 29 June 2013.

Burnet, Gilbert. The History of the Reformation of the Church of England. Vol.I Part I. London: W. Baynes and Son, 1825. Google Books. Web. 3 July 2013.

Gairdner, James. (editor). “Henry VIII: April 1534, 16-20.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 7: 1534 (1883): 199-210. British History Online. Web. 29 June 2013.

Gairdner, James (editor). “Henry VIII: February 1535, 11-20.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 8: January-July 1535 (1885): 75-98. British History Online. Web. 29 June 2013.

Gairdner, James (editor). “Henry VIII: October 1535, 6-10.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 9: August-December 1535 (1886): 181-195. British History Online. Web. 29 June 2013.

Gairdner, James (editor). “Henry VIII: February 1536, 1-5.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 10: January-June 1536 (1887): 82-98. British History Online. Web. 01 July 2013.

Gairdner, James (editor). “Henry VIII: August 1536, 16-20.” Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 11: July-December 1536 (1888): 130-138. British History Online. Web. 28 June 2013.

Hibbert, Christopher. The Virgin Queen: Elizabeth I, Genius of the Golden Age. New York: Addison-Wesley Publishing Company, Inc., 1991. Print.

Ives, Eric. The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn: The Most Happy. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2004. Print.

Marcus, Leah S. et al., eds. Elizabeth I: The Collected Works. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002. Print.

“The Queen Elizabeth Virginal.” V&A Images Collection. Victoria and Albert Museum, n.d. Web. 03 July 2013.

Ridgway, Claire. The Fall of Anne Boleyn: A Countdown. UK: MadeGlobal Publishing, 2012. Print.

Sander, Nicholas, and Edward Rishton. Rise and Growth of the Anglican Schism. Trans. David Lewis. London: Burns & Oates, 1877. Google Books. Web. 28 June 2013.

Somerset, Anne. Elizabeth I. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Print.

Warnicke, Retha. The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn: Family Politics at the Court of Henry VIII. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Print.

Weir, Alison. The Children of Henry VIII. New York: Ballantine Books, 1996. Print

Weir, Alison. Henry VIII: The King and His Court. New York: Ballatine Books, 2001. Google Books. Web. 30 June 2013.

Weir, Alison. The Lady in the Tower: The Fall of Anne Boleyn. London: Jonathan Cape, 2009. Print.