Six Wives of Henry VIII
This they were glad to do. Dr Chambers confirmed what his master had said, and related how he had advised the King 'not to enforce himself, for to do so might result in an inconvenient debility of the sexual organs. He recalled that Henry had said 'he thought himself able to do the act with other, but not with her'. And Dr Butts gave evidence that the King had had nocturnal emissions of semen in his sleep during the period of his marriage to Anne of Cleves - in the good doctor's view, this was proof that intercourse had not taken place. The King himself reaffirmed later that Anne had come to him a virgin - he was perhaps mindful that remarks made by him at the time of their marriage had cast doubt on this - and said he had shared her bed every night for four months and 'never took from her by true carnal copulation'.
While the King was drafting his declaration to the clergy, his marriage was being debated in the House of Lords, where three good reasons were given for its dissolution: Anne's probable precontract with Lorraine, Henry's lack of consent to the marriage, and its non- consummation. This last was seen as most important since 'the whole nation had a great interest in the King's having more issue, which they saw he would never have by this queen'.
On 9 July 1540, the convocations of both Canterbury and York reached a decision. They announced that they found the King's marriage to Anne of Cleves to be null and void on the three grounds put forward by Parliament. Both the King and the Lady Anne were at liberty to remarry. Thus, with a minimum of fuss, was the King's fourth marriage ended.
On that day, a deputation of the Privy Council waited upon the ex- Queen at Richmond to inform her of the annulment of her marriage, and to tell her that from henceforth it was the King's pleasure that she call herself his sister. Anne must have felt considerable relief when she heard this, but her outward manner was calm. She did not faint, as some later apocryphal sources allege, but declared her consent to the annulment, and 'showed herself amenable to it'. The lords then informed her that the King had settled upon her a handsome annuity of 4,000 per annum, as well as the manors of Bletchingly and Richmond, with Hever Castle, Anne Boleyn's childhood home, which had reverted to the Crown on the death of the Earl of Wiltshire. Anne would now be a woman of means, with the added status of being the King of England's honorary sister. The world also knew she was still a virgin: Henry had made it as easy as possible for her to remarry if she so wished. There now opened before Anne such a vista of new-found freedom that she positively welcomed the dissolution of her marriage, and in this mood she declared to the lords her eagerness to co-operate in any way the King should wish.
Henry immediately despatched Dr Wotton to Cleves to break the news gently to Duke William. Wotton was also charged, on the Lady Anne's orders, with informing the Duke that she would not be returning to the land of her birth, as the grants of land made to her were only hers on condition that she remained in England. What was more, she liked it in England, and meant to stay for good. The Duke took the news mildly, merely commenting 'he was glad his sister had fared no worse'. All the same, as he explained in a letter to Henry VIII, he was sorry for what had happened, although he would not depart from his amity for his Majesty for any such matter. He could have wished that his sister should return to Germany, but if she was satisfied to remain, he had confidence that the King would act uprightly towards her, and he would not press it.
Privately William thought Henry's behaviour was deplorable, and he was fearful that Anne might be persecuted for her faith if she stayed in England. His fears would prove unfounded.
Soon, the news was buzzing around the courts of Europe. Both Francis I and Charles V approved of the annulment. Martin Luther was not so charitable. 'Squire Harry wishes to be God, and do as he pleases!' was his scornful comment, prompted no doubt by disappointment that the Protestant cause had been deprived of a potential champion in England.
On 11 July, at the request of the Council, the Lady Anne wrote a tactful letter to the King, formally acknowledging the dissolution of their marriage. In it she affirmed that, 'though this case must needs be both hard and sorrowful for me, for the great love which I bear to your most noble person,' she accepted and approved the decision of the clergy, 'whereby I neither can nor will repute myself your Grace's wife, considering this sentence and your Majesty's pure and clean living with me.' For all this, she hoped that she would sometimes have the pleasure 'of your most noble presence, which I shall esteem for a great benefit'. She was comforted, she went on, 'that your Highness will take me for your sister, for the which I most humbly thank you accordingly'. And, beseeching the Almighty to send the King long life and good health, she signed herself, 'Your Majesty's humble sister and servant, Anne, the daughter of Cleves.'
It is likely that this masterpiece of diplomacy was drafted for Anne by members of the Privy Council. While acknowledging the justness of the clergy's decision to annul the marriage, it yet manages to convey a poignant sense of loss, calculated to flatter the King. In reality it seems unlikely that Anne can have felt much distress at their separation: from a humiliating bondage she had suddenly been translated into a life of luxurious freedom, finding herself to be, for the first time, her own mistress. As the King's sister, she would take precedence over most of the ladies of the kingdom, and a place at court would always be reserved for her. There is no doubt that she had grown to appreciate her adopted land, and she was now fortunate enough to own three of the most charming houses it could boast. It was not such a bad bargain when all was said and done.
Anne's marriage was formally annulled by a specially introduced Act of Parliament on 12 July 1540. Immediately after it was passed, the Privy Council humbly petitioned the King to frame his most noble heart to the love and favour of some noble personage to be joined with him in lawful matrimony, by whom his Majesty might have more store of fruit and succession to the comfort of the realm.
Katherine Howard's name was not mentioned, yet the lords were in little doubt as to who their next queen would be. The only people at court who were dissatisfied at the prospect were those who supported the reformist cause and the ex-Queen's German attendants and their mutterings were predictably ignored.
Word that Katherine Howard might soon be Queen of England quickly spread. In Yorkshire, it came to the notice of Joan Bulmer, who had known Katherine well in her Lambeth days, prior to 1540. Joan had been a serving woman in the Duchess of Norfolk's household, and had at one time acted as Katherine's secretary since the future Queen was barely literate, her education having been largely overlooked. Then Joan married and moved to Yorkshire, where she now lived, and Katherine had doubtless assumed she would never see her again. She was wrong: Joan Bulmer was an ambitious woman, who did not enjoy being isolated in her north-country fastness. She wanted to come to court, where there was excitement to be had, and power to be gained by subtle means. So she wrote to Katherine on 12 July, begging to be accepted into her household once she was queen, 'as it is thought that the King of his goodness will put you in the same honour that [Anne of Cleves] was in which no doubt you be worthy to have.' She reminded Katherine of 'the unfeigned love that my heart hath always borne towards you', and confided that her changed circumstances had brought her 'into the utmost misery of the world and most wretched life'. There was no way out of it, either, unless Katherine, of her goodness, could find the means to invite Joan to London. If she were to command Joan's unpleasant husband, he would have to obey and send his wife. On and on the letter went, the writer pleading, cajoling, and flattering; she ended by beseeching Katherine
not to be forgetful of this my request, for if you do not help me, I am not like to have worldly joys. Desiring you, if you can, to let me have some answer of this for the satisfying of my mind; for I know the Queen of Britain will not forget her secretary, and favour you will show.
Katherine was a kind-hearted girl, and she was happy to oblige. She was too inexperienced to perceive the rather menacing undertone in the letter, the sinister reminder of things better forgotten, and the underlying threat imp
licit in such a reminder. Before long, Mistress Bulmer had been given a place in her growing entourage, but it was a favour Katherine would live to regret.
Meanwhile, the Lady Anne of Cleves was astonishing everyone by her exemplary conduct. To a court accustomed to redundant queens creating havoc, her behaviour was remarkable, and on 13 July the King in gratitude sent her gifts of great value and richness, as well as letters from her brother and Dr Wotton. Anne opened and read these with pleasure, and then sent Henry her humble thanks for having let her see them. Afterwards, in response to Dr Wotton's hint that the Duke of Cleves and his ministers were concerned about how she was being treated in England, Anne dutifully wrote herself, in German, to Duke William, to reassure him. Nor was that all. In the presence of Norfolk and Wriothesley, she spoke to her brother's emissary and stressed that she was 'merry and honourably treated', and so cheerful did she appear that the man could not doubt it. Afterwards, Anne dined with the lords of the Council, and promised them that she would never deviate from her acceptance of the annulment of her marriage. She had, she told them, returned her wedding ring to the King in token of this. After listening to the report of his Councillors, Henry wrote to Anne, on 14 July, to thank her for being so conformable to his 'wise and honourable proceedings'. If she continued in this way, he assured her, 'you shall find us a perfect friend content to repute you as our dearest sister.'
On 17 July, Sir Thomas Wriothesley arrived at Richmond to disband the former Queen's household, and to see her new servants, selected by the Privy Council, sworn in. Anne said farewell publicly to those who were leaving her service, and cordially welcomed the newcomers, many of whom were merely transferring, being her compatriots. Afterwards, she told Wriothesley that she knew herself to be under a great obligation to the King, and that she would never oppose him in any way, not even for her brother or her mother or anyone else. She also promised to let Henry see any letters she received from abroad, and to be bound by his advice concerning matters raised in them.
To the King, this seemed almost too good to be true, and he found himself searching for flaws in Anne's conduct. Being of a suspicious nature and devious in his own actions, he could not conceive that anyone could be so candid and straightforward. Indeed, after his nine-year battle with Katherine of Aragon over the validity of their marriage, he found it hard to believe that Anne had capitulated without any kind of fight. His suspicions were therefore aroused, and they centred upon the correspondence to which Anne had unwittingly drawn his attention, namely the letters that were to pass between her and Duke William. What Henry feared was that Anne might secretly incite her brother to make war on her behalf.
Having persuaded himself that this was a very real possibility, the King instructed his Council to visit Anne again and instruct her to write one further letter to William in German, 'to the intent that all things might more clearly appear to him'. However well Anne had behaved, she was a woman, and might choose to 'play the woman' rather than keep her promises. She was therefore to persuade her brother not to listen to 'tales and bruits', and reassure him also that she was entirely content with her lot. Unless she wrote such a letter, warned the King, all shall remain uncertain upon a woman's promise, viz. that she will be no woman; the accomplishment whereof, on her behalf, is as difficult in the refraining of a woman's will, as in changing her womanish nature, which is impossible.
So much for Henry's opinion of the integrity of the fair sex, though he did order the Council to say to Anne, 'for her comfort, that howsoever her brother may conduct himself, or her other friends, she (continuing in her uniformity) shall never fare the worse for their faults'. The Council dutifully returned to Richmond, where Anne was happy to comply with their request. Hopefully, the King would now be satisfied, and she deemed it the appropriate time to make a request.
Anne had by now come to know all the King's children. Mary was of an age with her, and the two had established a warm friendship. Yet, of the three, it was Elizabeth, that bright perceptive child, of whom she was most fond. Anne had a kind heart, and she undoubtedly felt sorry for this little girl who had been so cruelly deprived of her mother. Unlike Prince Edward, Elizabeth was not fussed over by an army of governesses and nurses and even Lady Bryan had been taken from her. Anne herself had no desire to remarry, and knew it was unlikely that she would ever have children of her own. Elizabeth could help to fill that empty space in her life, and she, in turn, could supply the child with something of a mother's love. She was charmed by Elizabeth's beauty, wit and demonstrative nature, and felt it would be a pleasure to have her company sometimes. So she now asked the King if she might be permitted to invite Elizabeth to visit her on occasion, saying 'that to have had [her] for her daughter would have been greater happiness to her than being queen'. The King readily granted her request, and thereafter, it may be assumed, the Lady Elizabeth was a frequent guest at Richmond.
The French ambassador, Marillac, writing on 21 July to his master, was astounded at the ease with which the King had obtained an annulment of his marriage.
The Queen appears to make no objection [he wrote with disbelief]. The only answer her brother's ambassador can get from her is that she wishes in all things to please the King her lord, bearing testimony of his good treatment of her, and desiring to remain in this country. This, being reported to the King, makes him show her the greater respect.
The ambassador had learned how Henry had decreed that Anne was from henceforth to be regarded as a private person. No ministers were to trouble her or visit her. The people of England, went on the report, much regretted her divorce, for she had won their love, and they esteemed her as one of the most sweet, gracious and humane queens they have had, and they greatly desire her to continue their queen. Now it is said that the King is going to marry a young lady of extraordinary beauty, a daughter of a deceased brother of the Duke of Norfolk. It is even reported that this marriage has already taken place, only it is kept secret. The Queen takes it all in good part.
Anne was, indeed, quite reconciled to the prospect of Henry's remarriage. She now thought it politic to retire for a short time from public life, and took herself off to the country, living at either Bletchingly, Richmond or Hever, and enjoying her freedom as a lady of means.
Henry had not yet married Katherine Howard, although so much secrecy surrounded his affair with her that rumours were rife at court. In late July, Marillac heard that she was with child, although this proved to be false. It was only after he had dissolved Parliament for the summer recess on 25 July that Henry began to make plans for his wedding. On 27 July, he sent for the Bishop of London to come and marry him at the palace of Oatlands, whither he had just gone with the court. The ceremony would take place in secret on the following day.
There remained just one other formality to be dispensed with and that was the execution of Cromwell. On 28 July 1540, the former minister was taken from his prison in the Tower and brought to the public scaffold on Tower Hill, where a large crowd had gathered. Among them was Cromwell's old friend, Sir Thomas Wyatt. Cromwell noticed him there, weeping, and cried out, 'Oh, Wyatt, do not weep, for if I were not more guilty than thou wert, when they took thee [i.e. to the Tower after Anne Boleyn's arrest], I should not be in this pass.' The King had commuted the sentence to decapitation, even though the condemned man was of lowly birth. But Cromwell suffered, none the less: the executioner bungled his work, and it took two strokes to sever the neck of the prisoner. The King's evil genius died in the manner of so many of his own victims, because the marriage he had arranged to bring joy to his master and profit to himself had proved his ruin.
Anne of Cleves might well have ended up as another of Cromwell's victims. It is to her credit that she did not. Her handling of a difficult and potentially dangerous situation shows that she was, perhaps, the wisest of Henry VIII's wives. She was certainly the luckiest.
14
Rose without a thorn
Today, what remains of Henry VIII's palace of Oatlands lies bene
ath the foundations of a council estate in Weybridge, Surrey. Much of it was pulled down in the seventeenth century, yet it was a favoured retreat of the King and his children, and Henry spent a great deal of money on it. He had acquired the manor, with its moated red-brick house, in 1537; thereafter he set about enlarging and beautifying it, adding faqades, new wings, an arched bridge over the moat, and an octagonal tower. He then had the moat filled in and extended the building over it, creating a new courtyard in the process. The hunting in the nearby park was excellent, and the palace was convenient for Hampton Court. By 1540, most of the improvements had been completed, and it was because it was such a pleasant place that the King decided to take Katherine Howard there for their wedding.
The marriage ceremony, on 28 July, was conducted in private by Bishop Bonner. For ten days, absolute secrecy was maintained about it. The King was infatuated with his bride, and wished for time to spend alone with her before surrounding her with all the paraphernalia of court etiquette and the lack of privacy this entailed. At last, it seemed to him, he had found a wife who embodied all the qualities he most admired in women: beauty, charm, a pleasant disposition, obedience and, he believed, virtue. He considered himself blessed indeed. Whether Katherine was so elated with her husband is a matter for conjecture, but to all appearances the new Queen suffered her wifely duties with commendable fortitude, displaying at all times a cheerful and loving manner towards her august spouse.