19 July 1543: The Death of Mary Stafford

We do not know how old Mary Stafford (nee Boleyn) was when she died on 19 July 1543. Mystery surrounds every aspect of Mary's life: we do not know her date of birth, what she looked like, whether she was the oldest or the youngest of the surviving Boleyn children, what her relationship with her siblings was like, or even where she died. Mary's life has been imagined and invented in works of fiction, most notably Philippa Gregory's bestselling novel The Other Boleyn Girl and in Karen Harper's The Last Boleyn. 

Although Mary remains best known as the sister of Anne Boleyn, it seems fitting to refer to her as Mary Stafford given that she died while the wife of William Stafford. In her letter to Thomas Cromwell, written c. 1534, Mary described her second husband as 'honest' and noted that she 'could never have had one that should have loved me so well'. At a distance of almost five hundred years, it is impossible to know whether Mary's controversial marriage to William Stafford was ultimately happy, but certainly theirs appears to have initially been a love match. Like other Tudor noblewomen, such as Frances Brandon, Katherine Willoughby and Anne Stanhope, Mary had selected a second husband who was inferior to her in status because it brought the promise of security, although it enraged her family and compelled her sister to order her dismissal from court.

At her death, Mary held a number of properties, many located in Essex. After the disgrace and deaths of her brother and sister in 1536, she was her father's sole heiress and it was to her that the Boleyn inheritance passed. When Mary died, the properties passed to her son Henry Carey, who was then aged seventeen. He was highly favoured by his cousin Elizabeth following her accession in 1558. Henry's sister Katherine was also a favourite of the queen. 

Above: Anne Boleyn. In the realm of fiction, Mary and Anne have often been presented as jealous rivals. 

The last years of Mary Stafford's life were not necessarily pleasant ones. Her unexpected marriage to William Stafford displeased her family and her sister, who was then queen, banished her from court permanently. Less than two years later, Anne and George Boleyn were both executed, alongside four other men, on scandalous charges of adultery, incest and treason. Less than two years after the shocking events of 1536, Mary's mother died, and a year after that, her father also passed away. In 1542, her sister-in-law Jane Parker was beheaded for treason alongside Mary's cousin, Katherine Howard. Although she was not necessarily close to any of these individuals, it would be surprising if the betrayal, bloodshed and devastation that was inflicted on the Boleyn family between the late 1530s and early 1540s did not have an impact on Mary, by then the only surviving child of Thomas and Elizabeth Boleyn.

Two biographies of Mary have been published to date and she regularly features in general histories of Henry VIII's reign. Moreover, she has been the subject of numerous novels. However, much of Mary's life remains unknown. Perhaps it is this mystery, this uncertainty, that makes her so entrancing to modern audiences today. 

Above: Katherine (left) and Henry (right), Mary's children by her first husband William Carey. Both were greatly favoured by their cousin, Elizabeth I. 

The Character Assassination of George Boleyn

Above: Negative depictions of George Boleyn were offered in both The Tudors (left) and The Other Boleyn Girl (right).

My research focuses on the maligning and misrepresentation of high-status women in late medieval and Tudor England, examining the gendered dimension and motivations for attacking prominent women. However, it was not only women who were defamed and maligned, but men too. One outstanding example of this is George Boleyn, lord Rochford, whose posthumous reputation has been notorious. He is frequently depicted as a rapist, homosexual, heretic, womaniser, abuser or coward - and, often, all of these are mixed together. This has resulted in what could be termed the black legend of George Boleyn. However, this popular understanding of George has little basis in historical evidence.

How did this black legend come about? It is difficult to separate the defamation of George from the character assassination of his entire family. The Boleyns have, in popular culture, become synonymous with greed, treachery, political ambition and ruthlessness, although modern historians recognise that they were typical of the period in which they lived in and were no worse than other noble families. But this has not prevented novelists, film-makers, and directors from slandering the Boleyns. Thomas Boleyn, a respected diplomat and talented linguist in his day, has been caricatured as an ambitious, grasping egotist. His daughter Mary has become synonymous with bawdiness and prostitution, although another line of thought has cast her as the innocent, vulnerable victim of her merciless family. Queen Anne Boleyn has suffered the most, being reduced to a scheming manipulator, a nymphomaniac, or a homewrecker - and frequently, the three are mixed together. George Boleyn then is, like other members of his family, a victim of the abuse directed at the Boleyns. 



Above: Anne (left) and Mary (right), the sisters of George.

Modern historians have been fairly appreciative of George Boleyn's significance, particularly in the English Reformation. In 1531, he was one of several crown officials who assisted Henry VIII in his claim to be supreme head of the English Church. Like his sister Anne, George owned a number of French evangelical works. He turned two of them into presentation copies for his sister, which were based on the works of Jacques Lefevre d'Etaples. These texts stressed the necessity of having a living faith in Christ in order to attain salvation, rather than relying on good works and on the rituals of the established Church. George wrote a dedicatory letter to his sister in one of the texts, "The Epistles and Gospels for the Fifty-Two Weeks of the Year", in which he addressed Anne as 'her most loving and friendly brother'. He also assured her that he loved her. These texts testify to both George's devout religion and his close relationship with Anne.

Later, George's execution speech in 1536 confirmed his prominent involvement in religious reform at Henry VIII's court. He referred to himself as 'a great reader and mighty debater of the Word of God, and one of those who most favoured the Gospel of Jesus Christ.' The Imperial ambassador Eustace Chapuys frequently accused the Boleyns of being 'more Lutheran than Luther himself', and it seems plausible that, when Anne became queen, her brother assisted her in advancing evangelical reform at court. Their father, also passionate about religious reform, was probably also involved. Joseph S. Block has written that George's interest and passion for religious reform was motivated not only out of desire to assist his sister, but 'was a guiding light in his life'. 

George's interests, however, extended beyond religion. His biographers Claire Ridgway and Clare Cherry note that he was a talented poet and linguist. George also enjoyed an excellent diplomatic career, a point often overlooked especially in popular depictions of him. For example, in 1529 he was knighted and led an embassy to France at an unusually young age (if he was born around 1504, he would have been only twenty-five or so years of age: a point which indicates that there was already considerable confidence in his abilities). Soon after, George became Viscount Rochford. In 1533, he again travelled to France where he informed the French king about Henry VIII's marriage to Anne and was able to secure Francois I's support in the struggle against the papal denunciation of Henry's annulment of his first marriage. Further embassies followed later that year and in 1534, and in June 1534, George was rewarded for his diplomatic successes: he was promoted to Baron of the Cinque Ports.

Around the end of 1524, he married Jane Parker, the daughter of Henry lord Morley. George's marriage to Jane has more often than not been portrayed as a vicious, tempestuous and abusive union. Alison Weir describes their relationship as "unhappy" and asserts that Jane testified against her husband at the time of his downfall in spring 1536 because she was revolted and disgusted by his sexual practices. This idea was originally put forward by academic historian Retha Warnicke, who suggested that not only was George promiscuous, but guilty of sodomy with several men too. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this salacious notion has become enshrined in popular culture and has hugely influenced the prevailing view of George. In Philippa Gregory's novel The Other Boleyn Girl, George Boleyn is a promiscuous, unhinged and sexually disturbed man who not only has an affair with Francis Weston, but is strongly suggested to have slept with his sister Anne, resulting in the birth of a deformed child and accusations of witchcraft and incest that send both of them to the scaffold. In the television series The Tudors, George is portrayed in a darker light as a serial abuser, who sexually assaults his innocent wife on their wedding night. He also enjoys a sexual relationship with Mark Smeaton. The Tudors provided the most manipulative, abusive, violent and cruel portrayal of George Boleyn to date. Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies presents George more as an arrogant, shallow dandy or fop who shamefully cries at his trial and, during his lifetime, is concerned with nothing more than the pursuit of luxury and decadence. The television series Wolf Hall similarly presents his relationship with Jane as abusive, in which he treats her violently and with contempt.


Above: George Boleyn in Wolf Hall.

There is no evidence for any of this, and we cannot know the truth of George and Jane's marriage. Their childlessness has frequently been cited as conclusive evidence of their marital unhappiness, but it is equally possible that either partner suffered from infertility, or perhaps there were other problems that we just do not know about. In the absence of evidence, it is unfair and contrary to historical practice to speculate negatively about their relationship. Contrary to legend, Jane was not the 'principal accuser' of her husband in the wake of his downfall in 1536, and she may have been coerced into providing testimony, in what must have been a terrifying and traumatic experience for her. Jane has traditionally been presented as jealous and hurt by George's close relationship with his sister Anne, in which he neglected and mistreated his wife in favour of spending time with his more attractive and accomplished sister. Again, there is no evidence for this. Perhaps Jane was jealous of Anne, perhaps she hated her, perhaps she did love George and was hurt by his treatment of her. Alternatively, and equally validly, perhaps she enjoyed a good relationship with her sister-in-law and perhaps she was treated well by George. We cannot say, and as stated, it is unfair and fruitless to speculate.

George was implicated in Anne Boleyn's downfall in the spring of 1536, and he was one of five men sentenced to death for committing adultery with her and plotting to murder Henry VIII (and, in his case, incest). While the majority of modern historians reject these charges entirely, and present all six as innocent of adultery and treason, several writers have speculated that George was guilty of 'unnatural' sexual offences, primarily sodomy and buggery. His sexual partners have been identified as Mark Smeaton and, perhaps, Francis Weston, both of whom were also accused of adultery with the queen and executed. As noted above, the notion of George Boleyn as a homosexual has gained credence in popular culture, and it is almost impossible to read a novel, watch a film, or view a play about him that does not subscribe to this prevailing view of him as a lover of men. However, as with his relationship with his wife, there is no evidence for this. George did provide Smeaton with a manuscript attacking the institution of marriage, but it is reading far too much into this to infer from this alone, in the absence of any other evidence, that George and Smeaton were lovers. George Cavendish, who served Cardinal Wolsey, later described George as 'my life not chaste, my living bestial, I forced widows, maidens I did deflower': in other words, identifying him as a serial womaniser, rather than a sodomite. However, Cavendish was a hostile and prejudiced writer with a clear agenda: to blacken the name of the Boleyns, whom he blamed for the downfall of his master. The famed Tudor poet Sir Thomas Wyatt, who knew George personally, lamented that, had George 'not been so proud, for thy great wit each man would thee bemoan'.

It is disturbing to realise that George Boleyn's posthumous reputation has been more negative than it was in his own lifetime. Since his death, he has been subjected to vitriolic attack, shameful slander and, in short, character assassination. In his lifetime, observers alleged that his chief vices were pride, arrogance and, from the perspective of religious conservatives, heresy. However, with the exception of Cavendish, none of them accused him of sexual lechery, and his intimate, loving relationship with Anne was cruelly distorted and misrepresented in 1536 as an incestuous relationship in order to get rid of them both. George Boleyn was a talented linguist, a renowned poet, and above all, a principal exponent of religious reform. He occupied a central place in English politics in the late 1520s and most of the 1530s, and was actively involved in several embassies on the Continent. His contemporaries were in awe of his talents and appreciated his significance. Controversy about George centres on his sexual preferences and on his relationship with his wife Jane. In the absence of any evidence that their relationship was unhappy, or that his sexual behaviour was anything but conventional, George should be given the benefit of the doubt, and should instead be admired and respected for his talents and skills.

Was Mary Boleyn Really 'The Mistress of Kings'?

Above: Portrait of a woman thought to be Mary Boleyn, c. 1525.

Philippa Gregory's bestselling novel The Other Boleyn Girl (2001) revitalised fascination with the Boleyn family and in particular Mary, the mysterious and unknown sister of Henry VIII's second queen. Mary Boleyn was the daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, born before 1502, and married William Carey in 1520 before briefly becoming Henry's mistress in the 1520s, before his attention turned to her enigmatic and attractive sister Anne. After she was banished from court in 1534 for making a clandestine second marriage, Mary survived the destruction of her family and died in obscurity in 1543 in her early forties.

Traditionally, historians have suggested that Mary was 'an infamous whore' who was the mistress of two kings, Francois I of France and Henry VIII of England. While it seems certain that Mary was indeed Henry's mistress, probably beginning in 1522 and ending before 1525 - Henry himself admitted to the affair and had to secure a papal dispensation in 1527 to marry the sister of a woman with whom he had had sexual intercourse - it is by no means certain that Mary was the French king's mistress. Indeed, historical evidence indicates that Mary never resided at the French court as a teenager.


Above: the Boleyn sisters, Anne (left) and Mary (right).

As Retha M. Warnicke points out, there is no evidence that Mary Boleyn served as a maid of honour at the French court. In 1514, Anne Boleyn travelled to Paris to serve Mary Tudor, queen of France, and later transferred to the household of Claude, wife of Francois I, but there is no evidence that her sister was there. Household accounts documented a 'M. Boleyn', but it seems likely that the 'M' referred to 'Mademoiselle' or 'Mistress', rather than 'Mary'. Contemporaries commented on Anne's presence in France. For example, George Cavendish, gentleman usher to Cardinal Wolsey, stated: 'This gentlewoman, Mistress Anne Boleyn, being very young was sent into the realm of France'. No contemporaries, however, referred to Mary dwelling in France, where she supposedly acquired a reputation for promiscuity and licentiousness.

At the English court, it has been asserted, Mary was best known for her 'reputation in bed' (Lacey Baldwin Smith, 2013) and 'the evidence is overwhelming that Mary had a reputation for sexual improprieties' (Warnicke, 1985). As Alison Weir has thoughtfully demonstrated, however, there is in fact little to no evidence to support these views. Henry VIII's affair with Mary was discreet and secret, and few seem to have known of it. Mary remains a shadowy figure and we know nothing of her thoughts and feelings. How long her relationship with Henry lasted, and whether she truly loved him, is impossible to say. It is, however, certain that she was his mistress for a brief time in the 1520s and quite possibly bore him at least one, if not two, children.


Above: Francois I of France. It is unlikely that Mary Boleyn was ever his mistress.

While Mary was undoubtedly Henry VIII's lover for a time, it is almost certain that she was not the French king's mistress, despite persistent rumours to the contrary. In 1536, the French king informed Ridolfio Pio that he had known Mary in France 'per una grandissima ribalda et infame sopra tutte' - in other words, 'a great whore, infamous above all'. However, Mary never resided at the French court, so Francois cannot have insulted her in relation to her supposed sojourn there in the 1510s. Unlike Anne, who had departed for Europe to acquire a splendid education, Mary remained at home, probably Hever Castle, where she acquired a more traditional education befitting the status of an English gentlewoman.

So what then did Francois mean by his comment? Weir has pointed out that Pio was hostile to the Boleyns. Every member of the family was defamed and attacked by hostile political commentators who resented Anne and the rejection of Katherine of Aragon. Thomas Boleyn was slandered as heretical, grasping and scheming; his wife Elizabeth was defamed as a whore and former mistress of Henry VIII; George Boleyn was cast as a heretic and hedonist; and Anne was consistently portrayed as a whore, murderess, heretic and witch. It is therefore in keeping with this general defamation and slander of the Boleyn family that Mary, too, would have been dishonoured and abused by chroniclers and commentators hostile to their cause. Nicholas Sander, for example, slandered her in his works while abusing and defaming her sister Anne Boleyn. 

It would therefore be ridiculous to accept such comments at face value. It is unlikely that Francois was referring to his own previous experiences with Mary. Possibly, as Warnicke credibly suggests, he only became acquainted with the new Queen of England's sister in 1532, when Mary accompanied Henry VIII and Anne to Calais. Francois may well have learned of Mary's former liaison with Henry and allowed it to cloud his view of her. His comment can hardly be read as admittance of a former relationship with Mary when she supposedly resided at his court as a teenager.

Aside from this one disparaging, insulting comment, there is no evidence that Mary was ever the mistress of the French king. There is no documentation of her stay in France, for the simple reason that she never served at the French court alongside her sister. In 1513, Anne Boleyn departed for Burgundy and later for France to serve in royal households. Her sister Mary, possibly because she was younger or possibly because she was less intellectual and brilliant than Anne, remained at home, before marrying William Carey in 1520. Shortly afterwards, she became the mistress of Henry VIII. We can say with some certainty that she was the lover of the English king, but we can equally be sure that she was never the mistress of his counterpart, the king of France.

The Arrest of Queen Anne Boleyn

On this day in history, Tuesday 2 May 1536, Queen Anne Boleyn, the second consort of Henry VIII, was arrested on charges of high treason and taken to the Tower of London. According to contemporary sources, the Queen had been watching a game of tennis when she was disturbed by a messenger arriving from the Privy Council, who informed her that she must present herself by order of the Council, 'by order of the King'. This must have appeared ominous and, given the mounting tensions in the past few weeks and the king's mysterious behaviour during the May Day jousts the day before, Anne must have been unsettled and, quite possibly, in fear for her life.

Anne was noted for her intelligence and wit, and it seems incredible to believe that she was ignorant that something momentous was afoot. On 26 April, six days before her arrest, she had, famously, entreated the future Archbishop of Canterbury Matthew Parker to take care of her infant daughter, Princess Elizabeth, should anything happen to her. A few days later, she had publicly berated the musician Mark Smeaton for his conduct towards her, and around the same time she accused the courtier Henry Norris of "seeking to have me", in effect, looking for "dead men's shoes" and wishing the death of the king. Norris was appalled at her suggestion, and Anne only belatedly realised the danger in what she had said. 


Appearing before the Privy Council as ordered, the Queen was informed that she was charged with committing adultery with three men: Smeaton, Norris and a third unnamed man; and she was also told that both Norris and Smeaton had confessed - a lie, for Norris had steadfastly maintained his innocence, and would continue to do so. Only Smeaton, perhaps because he was tortured, insisted that he had had sexual intercourse with Anne. At 2 o'clock that afternoon, she was escorted to the Tower, the first queen of England to be imprisoned there. She would not be the last, and she would never leave its walls except to take the short journey to the scaffold.

Anne was met by Sir William Kingston, the Constable of the Tower, upon her arrival. He was to treat her with respect, courtesy and admiration, although it is unknown whether or not he personally believed in her innocence. She asked him upon her arrival: "Master Kingston, shall I go into a dungeon?" When he promised her that no, she would instead occupy the suite in which she had housed during her coronation, she reputedly began laughing and cried: "It is too good for me". She began weeping at the same time. Anne then asked the Constable why she was in the Tower, clearly disbelieving the official statement that she was incarcerated because of suspected adultery. She was clearly aware that Norris was imprisoned alongside her, for she stated: "O Norris, hast thou accused me? Thou art in the Tower with me, and thou and I shall die together". Clearly she had little hope. Anne then feared that her mother would "die of sorrow" upon hearing the news, while also asking for news of her brother. 

Anne and George Boleyn, "Fallen in Love".


That very day, Henry Norris had also been imprisoned in the Tower. The king had, obviously, not believed Norris' adamant protestations of his innocence. The Imperial ambassador wrote to Emperor Charles V that Anne's brother, George Boleyn, Lord Rochford, "has also been lodged in the Tower, but more than six hours after the hours, and three or four before his sister". Kingston decided not to inform the hysterical Queen that her beloved brother was, in fact, imprisoned in the very same fortress as her. She would find that out soon enough. 

The Execution of Queen Anne Boleyn

On this day in history, 19 May 1536, Queen Anne Boleyn, second wife and queen consort of Henry VIII of England, was beheaded within the Tower of London for alleged sexual crimes encompassing adultery and incest, and treason against the King in supposedly plotting his death. It was the first public execution of a Queen of England – but by no means the last – and, undoubtedly, encompassed the brutal end of England’s most captivating, controversial, and ultimately celebrated queen consort in history.

http://www.conorbyrnex.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/the-downfall-of-anne-boleyn.html explored the various theories as to why Anne so shockingly, and quickly, fell from power in the early summer of 1536. It is disturbing that, being in an extremely secure position in January 1536 following Katherine of Aragon’s death and the announcement of Anne’s third pregnancy, just four months later, Henry’s second wife would be brutally decapitated for heinous crimes. As Retha Warnicke tellingly notes:

‘In January 1536... Anne could be optimistic about her future. She was pregnant again... Catherine was at long last dead... When her disgrace and downfall occurred, it was to catch Chapuys, that inveterate gossipmonger, with as much surprise and astonishment as it did the rest of Christendom’.[1]

Eric Ives seems to disagree, writing that:

‘The story of the events which led to the disgrace and death of Anne Boleyn need to begin almost a year before the tragedy itself’, referring to the royal couple’s visit at Wolf Hall, the home of the Seymour family, in the autumn of 1535.[2]

Whatever did lead to Anne Boleyn’s rapid downfall in the early summer of 1536 – whether it was factional conspiracy led by Thomas Cromwell (Ives), the miscarriage of a deformed son (Warnicke), the discovery of the queen’s actual adulteries (G. W. Bernard), a religious plot against the ‘Protestant’ Queen (Joanna Denny) or, simply, the result of Henry VIII’s long-standing ‘hatred’ towards his wife (Scarisbrick, Wilson), the events of May 1536 moved very quickly against the six involved, leading to six brutal deaths and a horrific tragedy.

As has been noted, the Queen and the seven men (two, Sir Thomas Wyatt, celebrated Tudor poet, and Sir Richard Page, were eventually freed) had been arrested and imprisoned in the Tower of London in late April and early May 1536 on scandalous charges of treason, adultery, plotting the king’s death, and, in Anne and her brother George Boleyn’s case, committing incest. All six experienced shock, horror and dread – particularly the Queen, whose moods fluctuated from hysteria to grief to joy, and the lowly Mark Smeaton, who underwent psychological – if not physical – torture to extract a confession of adultery. The four commoners accused of committing adultery with Queen Anne – Smeaton, Henry Norris, William Brereton, and Francis Weston, all of whom had served the queen and been close to her – were tried in Westminster Hall on May 12, 1536, and found guilty of treason through committing adultery with the queen. They were sentenced to be hanged, drawn and quartered as traitors, although ‘mercifully’, the king decided to commute the sentences to beheading. Particularly for Smeaton, this was merciful, since a man of such lowly birth could not often expect such a quick and efficient method of execution.

Queen Anne and her brother George were tried later, on Monday 15 May. It was believed that Anne’s ladies, including the Countess of Worcester, Lady Wingfield, and her own sister-in-law Jane Lady Rochford (who would later be executed with Queen Katherine Howard), had supplied the crucial evidence against her. The Queen and her brother had been tried in the King’s Hall in the Tower of London, with their own uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, presiding in his capacity as Lord Steward. The Queen was brought in first, according to Antonia Fraser: ‘she arrived in a calm frame of mind’.[3] The contemporary chronicler Charles Wriothesley opined that she gave ‘wise and discreet answers to her accusers’ when questioned ‘as though she was not actually guilty’.[4] Ives goes further, movingly claiming that ‘her sparing and effective answers quietly dominated the court’.[5] Certainly, those who were actually there – including Anne’s arch-enemy, the Imperial ambassador, who admitted that she had given plausible and convincing replies to the questions posed – support this claim. She denied committing adultery with any of the men, or incest with her brother; she had not hoped and plotted for her husband the King’s death; she had not poisoned the former Queen Katherine of Aragon or her daughter Princess Mary; but it made no difference. She was found guilty on all counts, despite, as Warnicke notes, being ‘unrattled by these lurid details’.[6] 

Her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, with tears in his eyes, sentenced her to burning or beheading – but as Alison Weir notes, the method of execution – decapitation by the sword – had been agreed long in advance, and the executioner had already been sent for. Meanwhile, Henry VIII told his new love, Jane Seymour, that Anne would be condemned by 3 o’clock that afternoon. How can anyone not feel immense pity for the Queen, when discovering this brutal detail? It is little wonder that many view Jane Seymour as a sly, cold-hearted plotter who, as the Victorian historian Agnes Strickland wrote in outrage, literally stepped over her former mistress’ dead body to become Queen.

Yet the Queen was noted for her bravery, as even her enemy Cromwell – who many think plotted the whole conspiracy – admitted following her death, praising her courage. All Anne admitted to was: ‘I do not say that I have always borne towards the king the humility which I owed him... I admit, too, that often I have taken it into my head to be jealous of him... But may God be my witness if I have done him any other wrong’. When one considers that Anne swore before eternal damnation that she had never committed the crimes alleged against her, one is convinced of her innocence. As Weir concludes in her study: ‘the historian cannot but conclude that Anne Boleyn was the victim of a dreadful miscarriage of justice’. Following Anne’s trial, her brother George was tried after her, and despite his bravery – something which clearly ran in the Boleyn family – was also sentenced to death.

Two days later, the five men condemned for committing high treason through adultery with the Queen and plotting the King’s death were beheaded on Tower Hill, outside the Tower of London. George Boleyn, as the highest in rank went first, stating that: ‘I was born under the law, I am judged under the law and I must die under the law, for the law has condemned me’. The other men admitted their sins and the fact that they deserved to die; but this does not necessarily mean that they were admitting that they were guilty of the crimes alleged against them. In the Tudor period, everyone was believed to be universally sinful – these men were alluding to their own sins. Smeaton, the last to be executed since he was the lowliest in rank, continued to maintain his guilt, causing the Queen notable distress when she heard.

That day, Anne’s marriage to the King was annulled and her daughter, Elizabeth, bastardised. It was likely on the grounds of Henry’s previous sexual relationship with Anne’s sister – thus creating affinity between them – although Warnicke suspects it was annulled because Anne, believed to be a witch, had bewitched Henry into marrying her. Anne’s own execution, in her mind, was believed to take place the next day, but the day came and went with no summons for the scaffold, leading to Anne’s increasing concern. The Constable of the Tower, William Kingston, eventually told her that it was postponed to the following day, Friday 19 May 1536.

The execution was held within the grounds of the Tower, before a small audience, at nine o’clock in the morning. The Queen emerged from the Tower accompanied by four ladies, and probably would not have been pleased to see her enemies Thomas Audley, the lord chancellor, Charles Brandon duke of Suffolk, Henry Fitzroy, the bastard son of Henry VIII, and Thomas Cromwell himself prominent among the spectators. Anne was dressed in a mantle of ermine (emphasising her queenly rank) over a grey damask gown lined with fur with a crimson petticoat, accompanied with an English gable hood (somewhat surprisingly for her, as she usually preferred the considerably more fashionable French hood). Those who were present remarked that ‘The Queen had never looked so beautiful’, while a Spanish commentator wrote that she looked ‘as gay as if she was not going to die’.[7] Anne’s speech was given by Edward Hall, Henry VIII’s court chronicler, as follows:

‘Good Christian people, I have not come here to preach a sermon; I have come here to die. For according to the law and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak of that whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never, and to me he was ever a good, a gentle, and sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me’.[8]

This is probably very close to Anne’s real speech, and in no way shows Anne admitting any guilt. Whether she did truly love Henry VIII, as she suggests, is impossible to know. Natalie Dormer, in the Showtime TV series The Tudors (despite its inaccuracies), gives a very moving portrayal of Anne’s execution, in which this speech is replicated:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZJOhwlFiuU

Numerous versions of Anne’s scaffold speech were given by different writers present on that day. According to Wriothesley, Anne stated:

‘Masters, I here humbly submit me to the law as the law hath judged me, and as for mine offences, I here accuse no man. God knoweth them; I remit them to God, beseeching Him to have mercy on my soul. I ask Jesus Christ to save my sovereign and master the King, the most godly, noble and gentle Prince that is, and long to reign over you’.[9]

Despite their glaring inaccuracies (in The Other Boleyn Girl, it is implied that Anne might be given a reprieve before falling into hysterical tears, two things which never occurred; and in The Six Wives of Henry VIII, where Anne is executed indoors before a block, two huge inaccuracies) this is the speech given by Natalie Portman and Dorothy Tutin.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qd7Avid6z2w

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4U2leBuQHQ

The Queen’s head was removed with a single stroke – mercifully – and she was buried that day in the Chapel of St Peter ad Vincula near Tower Green; where she would be joined less than six years later by her cousin and fellow queen, Katherine Howard, and her own sister-in-law, Jane Rochford, who may have supplied evidence against her. It was the end of the incredible career of Anne Boleyn. Her exact age is unknown but she was probably 34 or 35. She had been Queen for just under 3 years, but she had captivated the King and held his love for closer to 10 years, before being brutally eliminated in a murderous conspiracy – probably masterminded by her own husband – which also saw the deaths of 5 people close to her, including her own brother. One can only pity the Boleyn family, who saw two of their relatives bloodily removed in the space of a few short weeks.

The Independent on Sunday, in reviewing Eric Ives’ monumental – and to date, the best – biography of the Queen, termed Anne Boleyn ‘the most controversial woman ever to have been queen consort of England’. While this is undoubtedly true – just witness the numerous books, films, plays, and stories produced about her monthly – she was, as Ives rightly notes, the most important queen consort in English history. It is almost certain that Anne Boleyn was innocent of the crimes alleged against her. She was outspoken, highly intelligent, shrewd, calculating, at times vindictive, arrogant, and even spiteful; but at the same time she was deeply religious, kind, loyal to family and friends, charismatic, intelligent, attractive, highly talented, energetic, opinionated and bold. These qualities had commended her to a King because they so emphatically showed that she was not the typical sixteenth-century submissive ideal of a woman which Jane Seymour embodied.

Thomas Wyatt, Anne’s close friend – who had been imprisoned in the Tower as one of her accomplices – movingly wrote following these six deaths: ‘These bloody days have broken my heart’. While the Queen was by no means universally mourned – Catholic Europe openly rejoiced at her death and congratulated Henry VIII, while many English people, who hated Anne, saw it as divine retribution – a growing sense of pity emerged for Anne and the men killed with her; while others began to become increasingly suspicious towards the King. Jane Seymour was by no means universally popular, as scurrilous ballads circulated about her affair with the King. As one contemporary wrote:

‘It was thought strange by some, that in the same month which saw the Queen flourishing, accused, condemned and executed, another was assumed into her place’.

As Agnes Strickland, a Victorian historian writing in an era of high moral values, openly vilified the new Queen:

‘Jane saw murderous accusations got up against the queen, which finally brought her to the scaffold, yet she gave her hand to the regal ruffian before his wife’s corpse was cold. Yes; four-and-twenty hours had not elapsed since the sword was reddened with the blood of her mistress, when Jane Seymour became the bride of Henry VIII... The picture is repulsive enough, but it becomes tenfold more abhorrent when the woman who caused the whole tragedy is loaded with panegyric’.

Anne remains romanticised in today’s society, largely because of her brutal fate, an innocent Queen. She was far from perfect, but she deserved better than how she has been treated in recent fiction and film – whether that is Helena Bonham Carter’s shrewish and middle-aged Queen; Natalie Portman’s scheming and hysterical homewrecker; or the calculating and vindictive Anne of Hilary Mantel’s Bring Up the Bodies. To conclude, the last words should belong to Anne’s chief biographer, as they are very moving and aptly epitomise this blogger’s position:

‘She had been a remarkable woman... There were few others who rose from such beginnings to a crown, and none contributed to a revolution as far-reaching as the English Reformation... What Anne really was, as distinct from what Anne did, comes over very much less clearly. To us she appears inconsistent – religious yet aggressive, calculating yet emotional, with the light touch of the courtier yet the strong grip of the politician... Yet what does come across to us across the centuries is the impression of a person who is strangely appealing to the early twenty-first century. A woman in her own right – taken on her own terms in a man’s world; a woman who mobilized her education, her style and her presence to outweigh the disadvantages of her sex... taking a court and a king by storm.’ She was vindicated, 22 years later, when her daughter Elizabeth acceded to the throne.[10]

I agree. Anne Boleyn, an unbelievably complex person, was an incredible woman. In my research into English queens, there is none to compare with her. Her story continues to fascinate, entrance and captivate people across the world to an extent which few other historical personages are able to do. Innocent of the crimes she died for, Anne Boleyn was England’s most important queen consort – and perhaps the greatest.

---

[1]  Retha M. Warnicke, The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn (Cambridge, 1989), pp. 189-90.

[2] Eric Ives, The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn (Oxford, 2004), p. 291.

[3] Antonia Fraser, The Six Wives of Henry VIII (Phoenix, 1992), p. 308.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ives, Anne, p. 340.

[6] Warnicke, Rise and fall, p. 228.

[7] Fraser, Six Wives, p. 315.

[8] Ives, Anne, pp. 357-8.

[9] Fraser, Six Wives, pp. 315-16.

[10] Ives, Anne, p. 359.

The Real Lady Rochford

Above: Sheila Burrell as Lady Rochford in The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1971).

Is it ever possible to really understand someone who lived in the past, particularly when it was as far back as almost 500 years ago? Whatever the case, history has not been kind to Jane Boleyn nee Parker, Viscountess Rochford. From the moment of her sister-in-law Queen Anne Boleyn's downfall in the early summer of 1536, when dark rumours swirled that Jane had played a crucial role in the queen's demise, right up until the present day, Jane has been demonised, condemned and detested. I'm certainly not the first to tackle Jane's tale and attempt to separate myth from reality (check out Claire Ridgeway's excellent articles on Jane and Julia Fox's biography published in 2007), but since I have been extensively researching Katherine Howard's life, writing a post on Jane seems logical.

The daughter of Henry Parker 10th Baron Morley and his wife Alice St John, Jane's birth is unknown (like most English gentlewomen), but she is recorded as having been at court from 'a young age' and since she accompanied Katherine of Aragon as a maid-of-honour to France in 1520, she must have been aged at least thirteen, the minimum age for a maid-of-honour, and so must have been born by at least 1507, probably in 1505. Jane's birth and early appointment at court placed her in a position of prestige and enviable social wealth. What we know of her is very uncertain - her appearance, qualities and duties at court are completely unknown. Since she appeared in a masque in 1522 alongside the likes of Mary Tudor queen of France and Anne and Mary Boleyn, it has been suggested that she was attractive in looks; added to this, Queen Katherine was probably aware of Jane's suitability to participate in the masque and had had some role in her selection. Jane's father was a fairly remarkable man, with a strong interest in culture and education, and his printed works still survive today.

At that masque (the Chateau Vert), one of numerous Jane probably participated in, she almost certainly met her future sister-in-law, Anne Boleyn, for the first time, a graceful and educated gentlewoman perhaps four years her senior. Anne's elder sister, Mary, also participated. Her relations with the Boleyn family were cemented at the end of 1524 when, aged about nineteen, she married the youngest surviving Boleyn child and heir George. Most historians, commentators and novelists have concluded that the marriage was unhappy, cold and unloving, particularly in light of the events of 1536. In Philippa Gregory's The Other Boleyn Girl, George openly voices his disgust and intense dislike of Jane, taking male lovers behind her back, while in the Showtime series The Tudors he does the same thing and anally rapes her, for good measure. Even historians such as Alison Weir conclude that the marriage was loveless, although Julia Fox romantically imagines the two 'snuggling up' together. Whatever the true nature of this mysterious marriage, it was unremarkable and usual for the time. Highly placed families at court arranged prestigious alliances with one another in order to strengthen their positions and increase their prestige - love did not play a hugely important part in these negotiations. Since Mary Boleyn was King Henry VIII's mistress around this time, and his desire for her sister Anne would develop a year or two later, it was a momentous time for Jane to join the rapidly prosperous Boleyn family.

Jane's position at this time was excellent; not only was she highly placed at court, serving Queen Katherine on a regular and intimate basis, but she was allied to an increasingly successful family. It must have been an exciting time for her. At this time, her husband became Viscount Rochford as a result of the king's favour for the Boleyns, and she became the Viscountess. The couple were awarded beautiful residences including Beaulieu Palace and Grimston Manor. However, even though they were living in lavish quarters and were enjoying ever greater wealth and fortune, many have assumed that Jane and George's marriage was very unhappy. Retha M. Warnicke suggests that this was the case because of George's homosexuality - something which, as an identity, did not actually exist until the 19th century, but which has been utilised in The Other Boleyn Girl, The Tudors and other works of fiction to create greater scandal. This is unlikely, since contemporary evidence compellingly suggests that George was a noted womaniser at court. However, it may be significant that the couple never had children. Perhaps Julia Fox's position is the safest one - although there is no evidence that the couple's marriage was blissful, there is equally little documentation to indicate that it was as unhappy and a failure as so often assumed.


Above: Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard. Jane would feature heavily in both queens' downfalls.

Anne Boleyn's marriage to the King in the summer of 1533 strengthened the Boleyn family's power immeasurably, and Jane was at the centre of their glory and triumphs. She played a prominent role in Anne's coronation, and served her at court as queen. The exact nature of their relationship is, again, controversial. Jane helped Anne in 1534 to be rid of the king's mistress, and the Spanish ambassador reported that Jane had been dismissed from court as a result of her meddling (although, as has been noted, whether Jane left court for other reasons or whether she even left court at all is unknown). There is evidence dating from these years that Jane was something of a meddler, at least, although as with all historical evidence caution and scepticism is essential in using them to interpret the past. George Cavendish, who loathed the Boleyn family, offered a damning portrayal of Jane:

Withouten bridle of honest measure,
Following my lust and filthy pleasure,
Without respect of any wifely truth,
Dreadless of God, from grace also exempt,
Viciously consuming the time of this my youth.

The impression from this spiteful passage is, clearly, that Jane was not only irreligious and sinful, but that she was lusty - perverted even -, a failure as a wife, dishonest and vicious. Bearing in mind Cavendish's spite for Jane's family and the ever-present misogyny at the time, how accurate is such a description of Jane? Scandalous reports of her only surfaced in 1536 with the downfall of her husband's family. But other evidence suggests that she was involved in some murky matters - already the involvement with the Queen in 1534, and the possibility that in the autumn of 1535 she demonstrated alongside Lady William Howard in support of Princess Mary, thus setting herself up in opposition to her Boleyn relatives. Whether Jane had become disaffected with Anne and her relatives, possibly because of her own unhappy marriage, or whether the theory that she was involved in the demonstration is incorrect, is again unknown. The likelihood is that Jane had become disaffected with George, and by extension the Boleyn family, not because George was involved in homosexual relations as Warnicke believes, but because of religious differences. Jane was a traditional Catholic, as was her family, whereas the Queen and her relatives were noted evangelical reformers. It was religion, not sexual practices, which divided Jane and her husband's family.

Since Jane's father supported Princess Mary, it is possible that Jane transferred her support from the Boleyn family to Princess Mary and her supporters sometime in 1535-6. Certainly the situation at court may have influenced her, with Queen Anne's more uncertain position and the eventual rise of the Seymours. That has been the thinking of some historians, including Weir. Others, including Warnicke, downplay this, and suggest that Jane's scandalous reputation occurred only due to her involvement in Katherine Howard's downfall, not because of any involvement in Anne's, and argues instead that she turned against her husband because of the fact that he enjoyed sexual relations with other men (which cannot be proved).

Is it correct that 'the surviving evidence convincingly shows that Jane did testify to her husband having committed incest with his sister, and that she also confided to her interrogators some highly sensitive - and probably false - information'? (Weir) Fox, despite supporting Jane, thinks so, but insists that this only occurred because of the horrific environment Jane found herself in. In both The Other Boleyn Girl and The Tudors, once again, Jane plays a central role in her family's downfall. But whether or not this is historically correct is controversial.

In 1536, Anne Boleyn fell from power, caused largely by another miscarriage and the king's increasing disillusionment with his second marriage. She brought down five men with her, one of whom was her younger brother George, Anne's husband. As has been noted, Jane has traditionally been noted as being an essential part of these six people's deaths. George Wyatt, Anne's biographer, wrote of Jane as being a 'wicked wife, accuser of her own husband, even to the seeking of his blood. What she did was more to be rid of him than of true ground against him', while Bishop Burnet backed up this claim by writing how Lady Rochford 'carried many stories to the King... that there was a familiarity between the Queen and her brother beyond what so near a relationship could justify'. Another anonymous reporter wrote about 'that person who, more out of envy and jealousy than out of love towards the King, did betray this accursed secret, and together with it the names of those who had joined in the evil doings of the unchaste Queen' - although this evidence is particularly problematic since some writers have credibly argued that it doesn't refer to Jane at all, but another lady-in-waiting who supplied crucial evidence. However, the evidence against Jane is damning.

Julia Fox, however, who sees Jane as being a scapegoat, notes how Chapuys did not mention Jane as being the witness involved against Anne and George; the anonymous writer did not refer to 'that person' as Jane; Jane's eventual confession that she had lied about her husband and Anne was a forgery created years later; and other evidence, can counter the traditional belief that Jane, in a sense, was the 'particular instrument' in the Boleyns' downfall. That she was involved is certain. But what her role actually was is impossible to discern. I agree with the likes of Fox and Ridgeway; Jane has been unfairly demonised in the case of the Boleyns' downfall in 1536, and she probably wasn't the one who ensured their deaths as many people have believed. But I also caution against going too far in the opposite direction, and completely exonerating her from any guilt. She did play an important role, and I still believe that she was, at the very least, meddling.

George's execution severely crippled Jane, and she was forced to write to Master Secretary Thomas Cromwell for financial assistance, which he graciously provided her. She was further helped by being appointed one of Queen Jane Seymour's ladies in late 1536, thus enjoying social security and prestige at court once more. However, it is entirely possible that Jane had acquired a notorious reputation by now, although it is very unfair to present her as loathed by men and, in fact, insane, as Philippa Gregory has done. Jane's position became more prosperous still when her jointure was confirmed in 1539; she was later granted two manors in Warwickshire by Henry VIII. Following the queen's death in childbed, Jane served Anne of Cleves, and it has been conjectured that, once more, she played a prominent role in Anne of Cleves' divorce, providing crucial evidence that the marriage was never consummated. This, again, is uncertain. Warnicke suspects that the evidence was made up entirely. Jane probably supported Katherine Howard's cause because she came from a prominent Catholic family - since Jane was known to favour the Catholic religion, she probably viewed Katherine as a more acceptable queen than Anne of Cleves.

The winter of Jane's life, in a sense, began in the summer of 1540 when Henry VIII married Anne of Cleves' maid-of-honour, Katherine Howard, a relative of Jane's Boleyn relatives. The relationship between Jane and Katherine is entirely unknown. In Gregory's fiction, Jane manipulates and controls the young queen, largely due to the age difference between them, and manoeuvres her into working solely for the benefits of the Howard family at whatever cost. Conversely, in The Tudors (where they are much closer in age), the two seem to become close friends, and confidants. Certainly it's mysterious. Jane was at least eighteen years older than Katherine, and Katherine had other female relatives whom she might have felt she could have better trusted, including her sister-in-law and the women she had known from her childhood, including Katherine Tylney. I suspect, however, that the queen actually disliked these childhood companions, of whom Joan Bulmer was the most infamous, and only employed them at court in a naive attempt to keep them quiet. It is therefore plausible that she became involved with Lady Rochford because she quite literally had no-one else, and Jane Rochford was, by virtue of having served four queens already, an experienced courtier.

I am not suggesting, however, that Lady Rochford became involved with Katherine in order to allow the queen to commit adultery. Finding Warnicke's arguments compelling, along with my own research, it seems plausible that in the spring and summer of 1541 a situation at court which had haunted the reigns of Henry's earlier queens began to stifle Katherine - that of fertility politics. Almost certainly, she was made well aware by her family of the need to provide the king with a second son, and with his illnesses in the spring, she probably became increasingly anxious for her own future. The example of not only Anne Boleyn but Anne of Cleves was clear for her to see. So why did Katherine meet with Thomas Culpeper, an individual who was very possibly violent and manipulative, a rapist in fact? The answer lies in this situation, too often misunderstood by historians. Since Culpeper was the closest courtier to the king, attending to his most intimate needs, the queen probably began communicating with him in an effort to understand what was going on with her husband, in effect, to protect herself. It is inconceivable that, with this going on in the background, she would have rashly decided to embark on an adulterous affair.

The evidence seems to suggest that Jane initiated these meetings, perhaps out of goodwill to the queen. Not all writers have suggested this. Baldwin Smith damns Jane as being 'a pathological meddler with the instincts of a procuress who achieves a vicarious pleasure from arranging assignations' has been highly influential in fiction (above all Gregory's book), while the queen herself later accused Jane of having 'a wicked imagination'. Jane, according to the interrogations later, promised Katherine that she would never reveal her meetings with Culpeper, while the queen was reported to have been skittish and afraid during these encounters, perhaps because she was aware of what these meetings looked like. Unfortunately, a host of factors instigated both women's downfall that autumn. Rumours had swirled menacingly since the queen's marriage that she was unchaste, and this worsened in the summer when one of Katherine's former confidants, Mary Lascelles, reported to her brother that the queen was a woman of evil reputation. He consequently informed the Archbishop, who informed the king. Bearing in mind Katherine's sexual relations during her childhood were probably characterised mostly by force and manipulation, perhaps even rape, it's difficult to work out why Mary suddenly confided this. This is, in fact, the greatest problem with the evidence. If Katherine's ladies found it so strange that she was staying up until the early hours of the morning with her doors locked, only Jane for company, it is weird that they never reported this to the king or anyone else until three or four months later. Quite plausibly, the evidence was exaggerated, if not invented. Both Katherine and Culpeper insisted that they had never had sex, although Jane reported otherwise. She perhaps did so in an attempt to save herself, believing that, although the queen might suffer death, she would not.

Unfortunately, it was not to be so. Jane was imprisoned in the Tower while the queen was confined at Syon Abbey, and she was condemned to death in January 1542, aged probably thirty-six. Jane suffered a nervous breakdown, and it is possible that she lost her sanity. An Act of Attainder was specifically passed in order to allow her execution to take place, and she was executed with the young queen on 13 February. The notion that she admitted her guilt for her husband and Queen Anne's death on the scaffold is a myth. A contemporary observer reported that she merely expressed her sinfulness and the fact that she deserved her punishment, although another felt she spent far too long speaking. Following the trembling queen's end, Jane was executed, and was buried in the nearby chapel.

George Cavendish remarked that her 'slander for ever shall be rife' and her sin would ensure that she would be remembered as 'the woman of vice insatiate' has proved to have been the case. One Victorian historian even opined that 'the infamous Lady Rochford... justly deserved her fate for the concern which she had in bringing Anne Boleyn, as well as her own husband, to the block'. Many have interpreted her execution as being a case of what goes around, comes around. This is probably unfair; it seems likely that her role in the downfall of the Boleyns was much smaller than has usually been assumed.

I am not convinced that Jane was as guiltless as some have suggested. I think it's plausible to argue that she instigated the meetings between Katherine and Thomas Culpeper; why she did so, we cannot know. She certainly did provide damning evidence against her husband and Anne Boleyn. But was she the monster of television series and Gregory's The Boleyn Inheritance? Certainly not. At the very worst, Jane was meddling and probably hostile to her husband's family; maybe she instigated Katherine Howard's meetings out of a desire to help the queen in a desperate situation. It's hard to say. But her brutal end is certainly something to shy away from.