From 1528 Anne was no longer a maid of honour to Queen Katherine, but was still often at court in the awkward and ambivalent position of queen-in-waiting. Previously, courtiers had petitioned Wolsey rather than the king directly; now the cardinal’s power had waned and the king and his fiancée were taking the reins. For the last twenty years, Henry had been so occupied with his friends and lovers, hunting, jousting and entertaining, that he had left the day-to-day running of the country in his chief minister’s hands. Now that Wolsey was failing to secure an annulment – the Pope was continually dragging his feet – Henry’s respect for his chief adviser was diminishing. Anne Boleyn was apparently convinced that Wolsey was secretly hindering the process; his fall in 1529 was a sign of the great influence Anne now enjoyed.
Chapuys reported that ‘The Lady is all powerful here’ and Anne was given her own court, which rivalled the queen’s. Henry was determined to show that he was deeply committed to marrying her. Wolsey wrote to the Pope, describing
the approved, excellent virtues of the said gentlewoman [Anne], the purity of her life, her constant virginity, her maidenly and womanly pudicity, her soberness, chasteness, meekness, humility, wisdom.1
Henry was giving Anne every honour he could, every mark of respect – she was being openly treated as if she were already queen. Yet many saw her simply as a mistress who had risen above her position.
In 1529 Cardinal Campeggio wrote that Henry ‘sees nothing, he thinks of nothing but Anne; he cannot do without her even for an hour. He is constantly kissing her.’2 She appeared to be equally enamoured with him, writing to her suitor of ‘the joy that I feel in being loved by a king whom I adore, and to whom I would with pleasure make a sacrifice of my heart, if fortune had rendered it worthy’.3 We cannot know if Anne was ever genuinely attracted to, or in love with Henry, although there is every reason she would have been: he was still a handsome, charismatic man.
The imperial ambassador was still doggedly determined to persuade Henry that a second marriage was no guarantee of a son. The king angrily responded: ‘Am I not like other men? Am I not? Am I not?’ Chapuys was brave to broach this subject, as not fathering a boy could be considered both a slur on masculinity and a judgement from God. Yet the prevalent belief was that infertility was never the man’s fault. Bessie Blount had proved that Henry was capable of fathering a male heir, and he was determined to have another – but this one would be legitimate. Yet Henry also insisted that, ‘if I were to marry again, I would choose her [Katherine] above all women’ for her ‘gentleness, humility and buxomness’.4 He insisted that it was the illegality of their marriage that was the reason for the annulment; if he was proved wrong, he would happily return to Katherine.
In December 1529 Thomas Boleyn was made earl of Wiltshire, a title his family had a small claim to. The earldom of Wiltshire had been in Thomas Boleyn’s mother’s family, the Butlers, before their lack of a direct male heir had led to it being given to the Staffords. The title of Ormonde, which he had been given two years previously, could travel down the female line as well as the male, and so should have been Boleyn’s years before. The king ended the dispute over the title by giving Boleyn’s cousin, Piers Butler, another earldom so he would drop his claim.
At the same time, Anne’s brother George was knighted and created Viscount Rochford, and Anne became known as Lady Anne Rochford. Henry and Anne were acting as a married couple, and Anne was given precedence at a banquet over every woman present (Katherine was not invited). On 1 September 1532 Henry showed that Anne, dressed in crimson velvet, was no mere scarlet woman; he created her marquess of Pembroke. This title could be passed onto her children – and the decree omitted the usual phrase ‘legitimately born’. This was completely unprecedented. Henry also promised her an income of £1,000 per year and her investiture ceremony was attended by courtiers and foreign diplomats.
Anne Boleyn was the first mistress of an English king to achieve such a level of official recognition. She was now guaranteed financial security if the king’s attentions moved elsewhere, which would override any damage to her marriage prospects that their relationship may have caused. Yet it was not a sign that they had given up on obtaining an annulment, it was merely a safeguard and a stepping stone to the throne. They had been constantly together, sometimes in adjoining bedrooms, for five years, but they probably had not consummated their relationship – until now. A month after she received her title, Anne became pregnant.
Had Henry really been physically faithful to Anne Boleyn for six years? His medical records show he had problems with his bladder around this time, which may have caused impotence. This could have helped him remain loyal to Anne throughout the long build-up to their marriage. And from 1527 onwards he expected the situation to be resolved soon. No one realised that it would be dragged out for six long years. The Spanish ambassador, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, wrote that: ‘Nothing … annoys this king so much as the idea of not accomplishing his purpose.’5 Once he had made the commitment to Anne publicly, he could not back down.
Yet Katherine could not admit defeat either. Her two symbols were an arrow sheaf and the pomegranate, representing her parents’ military triumph in Granada. She had been raised on the road, as her parents led their troops into battle. A daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella was never going to accept being sidelined. For the Tudor upstarts to marry into such an august dynasty was a considerable achievement. There was a clear social hierarchy and royals married royals. That she would be discarded for Mistress Anne Boleyn went against the whole accepted structure of sixteenth-century society.
Henry’s love letters to Anne reveal much about their long, drawn-out courtship. We have the original notes he sent her because they were stolen, and ended up in – of all places – the Vatican, where they remain today. They depict a man whose mistress has the upper hand, and who is desperately unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. Unfortunately, we do not have her replies, but it is clear that she was, at this point, rejecting the king.
The love letters began at some point between 1523 and 1528, probably in 1526. Henry drew love hearts around Anne’s initials in his letters. All correspondence he addressed ‘to my mistress’, but initially in a courtly sense. He signed his letters to Anne: ‘H. Autre AB ne cherche R’ (Henry loves AB and no other). The annulment proceedings had begun by March 1527 and he seems by then to have proposed to Anne Boleyn. His early letters imply he wanted her as a mistress; his intentions do not seem to have been honourable from the start.
Henry wrote that he was anxious to discover if she had any feelings for him. He had been ‘above one year struck with the dart of love’ and still had no idea if she was interested in him. He even offered to make her his sole mistress, the coveted position of maîtresse-en-titre that women were prepared to kill for in other European courts. No woman in England had ever officially had such a status. Anne rejected this, and still chose to stay away from court, even though she could have accepted the option of being constantly chaperoned by relatives. He assured her that if he ‘knew for certain that you wished it of your own will’ he would cease importuning her and ‘put from me little by little my mad infatuation’.6
Although her hold on him increased, even Anne’s extensive influence and power depended entirely on the king. Mistresses could never have any real independent power in an absolute monarchy, because they were nothing without the king’s say-so. Henry was pursuing her in the tradition of courtly love, declaring himself to be her servant, yet Anne insisted that as she was unworthy to be served by a noble king, she could only serve him. ‘Although it does not appertain to a gentleman to take his lady in place of a servant, nevertheless in compliance with your desires, I willingly grant it to you …’ Anne was defying the customs, which encouraged Henry to do the same.
The letters show a confused suitor, a man who is used to having his every whim satisfied, trying to work out if this young woman is genuinely refusing him or if he needs to offer her more. It is likely that in the beginning Anne was not as calculating as she has been portrayed; she probably did not know that there was a possibility of marriage. She may well have been genuinely reluctant to embark on a relationship with a capricious womaniser. The affair with her sister, which the king had only ended very recently, would also have discouraged her.
In September 1529 Henry sent Anne a hart he had killed himself.7 ‘I can no less do than to send her some flesh representing my name, which is hart’s flesh for Henry, prognosticating that hereafter, God willing, you must enjoy some of mine.’8 The tone in some of the letters is clearly sexual: ‘Wishing myself (especially of an evening) in my sweetheart’s arms, whose pretty duckies [breasts] I trust shortly to kiss’9 and ‘Henceforth my heart will be dedicated to you alone, and wishing greatly that my body was so too, for God can do it if He pleases; to whom I pray once a day for that end.’ As well as praying that Anne would have sex with him, he also wrote to her of his all-consuming passion for her:
Bringing to my mind a point of astronomy, which is, that the further the days are from us, the farther too is the sun, and yet his heat is the more scorching; so it is with our love, we are at a distance from one another, and yet it keeps its fervency, at least on our side. I hope the like on your part, assuring you that the uneasiness of absence is already too severe for me; and when I think of the continuance of that which I must of necessity suffer …10
He was completely besotted with this aloof woman, describing her in 1527 as
The woman in the world that I value the most.
Around 1527, he wrote to Anne:
I must of necessity obtain this answer from you, having been for more than a year, struck with the dart of love, and not yet sure whether I shall fail, or find a place in your heart … I will take you for my only mistress, casting all others, that are in competition with you, out of my thoughts and affections.11
Here he acknowledges that others have been ‘in competition’ with Anne; she was not the only woman he had been pursuing.
We have one example of Anne’s response to Henry’s poetic declarations of love. They both wrote in an illuminated book of hours, which they passed between them during mass in the royal chapel:
If you remember my love in your prayers as strongly as I adore you, I shall hardly be forgotten, for I am yours.
Henry R. forever
Anne replied: ‘By daily proof you shall me find/To be to you both loving and kind.’12 The ice maiden was thawing as the months turned into years; but they were still little nearer their goal. And it was Katherine of Aragon who stood in their way.
The royal couple continued to lead lives which were mostly separate, but some old habits remained. Katherine still embroidered all her husband’s shirts, much to Anne Boleyn’s disgust. But Katherine had always sewn his shirts and Henry saw little reason for this to change. For the neglected Queen, it was important that she continued to act as his wife in any capacity she could. She could not consider agreeing with an annulment and there could be no compromise. It was written of her that:
She was a character tempered by steel … Under extreme pressure, Katherine of Aragon had not broken; but she had also not learnt how to bend.13
The duke of Suffolk described Katherine of Aragon as ‘the most obstinate woman that may be’.14
Katherine continued to present herself well, dressing in expensive garments. All through ‘the King’s Great Matter’, as the annulment proceedings came to be called, she continued her duties as queen exactly as before; she could do nothing else. Part of this was to spend most of her time with her ladies-in-waiting – including Mistress Boleyn. She seems to have remained civil to Anne, in marked contrast to Anne’s wild jealousy towards Jane Seymour. There is only one story of Katherine, ever regal, acknowledging to Anne that she was a rival. She is said to have been playing cards with Anne and coolly said to her: ‘You have good hap to stop at a king, my lady Anne, but you are not like others, you will have all or none.’ Even this story is of doubtful authenticity.
Katherine insisted that she treated Anne well because: ‘I have been a true and obedient wife, ever comfortable to your will and pleasure … being always well pleased and contented with all things wherein you had any delight or dalliance … I loved all those whom ye loved, only for your sake.’16 On the face of it, Anne Boleyn was very different to Katherine of Aragon, yet both were stubborn, intelligent and determined. Henry was unsure which way to turn, caught between two women of steel and with little idea of how to resolve the issue. The result was six years of limbo for the court and the country.
Throughout this time, Henry kept his illegitimate son close by. The duke of Richmond returned to court in August 1529, aged ten, to take his place in Parliament. Richmond remained with the king from then on and saw him daily. This must have worried both Katherine and Anne. Anne complained to Henry that she saw her time and youth had been wasted in vain, as she would now never make an honourable marriage and did not know what would become of her.17 This was a good speech but Henry felt he could do little without the Pope’s approval, which he remained convinced would arrive any day.
Katherine was then told by Henry that she was to join her daughter in Richmond or at the very least remain in her apartments. She chose to stay at court, insisting that her place was near her husband. Then at Christmas 1529, it was Queen Katherine leading the celebrations, playing the role of consort; Anne was nowhere to be seen. Henry simply did not dare to go any further at this stage, for fear of his subjects’ reactions and the international response. The king and his queen were at an uncomfortable stalemate.
During 1530, Katherine did not see Henry from New Year to April, but she joined him as his queen for the summer progress. This gave some people hope that Henry was tiring of Anne, but it was simply a show of unity for his subjects. Katherine still appeared convinced that his relationship with Anne Boleyn would peter out and he would return to her. She believed that if the Pope sent Henry an order to separate from Anne, then their marriage could return to normal. It was believed throughout Europe that Anne would give in to Henry’s advances eventually and then his desire for an annulment would cool. Katherine must have expected that, in the end, Anne would follow the example of her cast-off sister. She underestimated not only her rival but her husband, who would do anything to have his way.
The papal representatives were aware that Anne probably was still not Henry’s lover and this was her trump card. Cardinal Campeggio found it amusing that Anne had all the status of a maîtresse-en-titre, but without becoming his maîtresse at all, in a physical sense. Ortiz reported from Rome that Anne had suffered a miscarriage in 1531, but there is no evidence to support this. There were also rumours that Anne had already borne Henry children. As Anne proved her fertility regularly during the three years that she and Henry were married, it seems unlikely that they were cohabiting long before Anne became pregnant with their daughter, Elizabeth. Any children she had borne would have spurred Henry to legitimise the union, and he would have married her immediately. All the evidence goes against their relationship becoming sexual before the autumn of 1532.
It had been four years since Henry had announced his intention to annul his marriage and he was little nearer to his goal. Wolsey’s endeavours had yielded nothing from the papacy and after discarding the cardinal, there was no Englishman who had much influence with the Pope. Henry and Anne were not getting any younger. In July 1531 Henry finally cut his links to his first wife and had her sent away from the court, without saying goodbye; he never saw her again. This ended the ridiculous situation that had endured for so long, of a court with two rival queens; but it did not solve the situation – there was still no annulment, and no marriage to Anne.
Anne continued to be detested by the women of England, including Henry’s ex-lover, Elizabeth Amadas. In 1533 there were reports that ‘Some part of such ungracious rehearsals as Mistress Amadas at sundry times hath spoken before divers persons’, saying that she had ‘looked this twenty year upon prophecies’ and that the king was ‘cursed with God’s own mouth’ and the Scots would have conquered England by the end of the year. She also said:
My lady Anne should be burned, for she is a harlot; [that] Master Norris was bawd between the King and her; that the King had kept both the mother and the daughter, and that my lord of Wiltshire was bawd both to his wife and his two daughters.
Elizabeth also told of her own former relationship with Henry:
The King had often sent her offerings and gifts, and that Mr. Daunsy had come the bawd between the King and her to have had her to Mr. Compton’s house in Thames Street.
William Compton and Henry Norris had both been Henry’s Gentleman of the Stool and as such were probably involved in procuring women for him.
Elizabeth’s anger seems to have been inflamed because her own husband had left her. ‘Because the King has forsaken his wife, he suffers her husband to do the same, but the good Emperor will deliver all good wives when he comes, which shall be shortly.’ She also declared, ‘I care not for the king a rush under my foot; it is the king of heaven who rules all.’18 Henry’s previous affection for Elizabeth Amadas did not save her from being arrested for her comments.
Elizabeth’s account gives us a clear idea of how Henry arranged his liaisons in the early part of his reign. It has been inferred that Elizabeth’s account was of a recent affair, and thus he had been unfaithful to Anne. However, Compton had died in 1528, and so it was at some point before this that Henry had allegedly pursued Elizabeth Amadas, and it may have been very early in his reign. Elizabeth was older than Henry and is unlikely to have attracted him later in his reign; but as a teenager, he seemed to prefer older women.
Elizabeth was the wife of Robert Amadas, the court goldsmith who became the richest of his profession in the country. Although Elizabeth was the sister of Hugh Bryce the younger and a gentlewoman, her position would have been somewhat ambiguous as her husband, although very wealthy, worked for his living. He had inherited the position from Elizabeth’s father; her brother had died without issue, and so Elizabeth had inherited his wealth and entitlements. Through this, Robert Amadas became the master of the Mint and the keeper of Henry VIII’s jewels. By her marriage with Amadas, Elizabeth had two daughters, Elizabeth and Thomasine.
Around the time of Elizabeth’s outbursts, Robert Amadas owed the king 1,771 livres, 19s 10d for missing plate.19 This seems to have been dealt with and Robert died soon afterwards. Elizabeth quickly married again, to Sir Thomas Neville on 28 August 1532. Neville was the fifth son of Baron Abergavenny. Elizabeth was, at this time, the sister-in-law to Katheryn Parr, who would become Henry’s sixth wife. Elizabeth died within the next four months, in 1532, before Henry married his ‘harlot’.
Even by 1532, many of Henry’s subjects were not aware that he wished to marry a maid of honour. Some were convinced that he had come up with a more sensible plan to secure the succession – by marrying the mother of his son. Helwighen
mentioned a report that the King wished to marry this lady to legitimate by subsequent marriage a son whom he had by her; but the Dean said that this son was by another lady, who was already married. Said he had never heard of this, and he thought that the King’s love for another than his wife must be for the mother of his son … Asked him if he knew these two ladies and whether they were beautiful, worth leaving his wife for. He said he knew them both, and the mother of his son was eloquent, gracious and beautiful but the other lady was more beautiful still.20
Bessie had been widowed on 15 April 1530. There is nothing to suggest that Henry ever considered marrying her; he had already gone too far in his commitment to marry Anne. He was happy at this time to give his blessing to his cousin’s wish to marry Bessie and so clearly had no intentions of marrying her himself. Bessie was now a wealthy widow, the mother of a duke, and so was sought-after. Throughout 1532, Bessie repeatedly refused marriage to Lord Leonard Grey, a younger son of the marquess of Dorset and the king’s cousin through Henry’s maternal grandmother, Elizabeth Woodville. Bessie would have made a good queen in many ways; she was the same age as Anne Boleyn and had already proved her fertility. She also had an eleven-year-old son by the king, almost old enough to reign.
Bessie had gone on to have three children by Gilbert Tailboys: George, Robert and Elizabeth, all of whom died childless. Her daughter Elizabeth became Baroness Tailboys when her brothers died without issue. Because she claimed the title in her own right, her husband could not represent her in Parliament and as she was a woman she could not attend herself. She was not prepared to accept this and petitioned against it, in vain. Bessie’s daughter, Catherine Clinton, from her second marriage, later married William, Lord Burgh. She was the only one of Bessie’s children to continue the family line.
As Gilbert had become Baron Tailboys, when he died Bessie was left a wealthy widow. From July 1531 she was based mainly in South Kyme. Her unmarried sisters were sent to her, where she endeavoured to marry them off. Around 1534, Bessie chose to marry Edward Fiennes, Lord Clinton, twelve years her junior and a man who would go on to become the first earl of Lincoln after her death. When the king gave grants to the family, they tended to be given solely to Bessie or to Bessie and her children, not to Lord Clinton. It may have been significant that Bessie remained a widow for four years, from 1530 until after Henry had finally married Anne Boleyn. Perhaps Bessie was hoping that the king would tire of Anne over the years and see the sense in marrying her. However, she appears not to have been often at court during this time, although her New Year’s present in 1532 was one of the most expensive that year, a gold goblet.
Edward Fiennes, Baron Clinton, was born around 1512 in Lincolnshire; his lands bordered Bessie’s. At the time of their wedding, Bessie was around thirty-four years old and so was still young enough to produce more children. This was an equal match; he was a very talented young man with a title and she was the mother of the duke of Richmond and Somerset. Bessie bore him three daughters, Bridget, Catherine and Margaret, before she died in 1539 or 1540 aged around thirty-nine. Clinton outlived his wife by forty-five years, becoming an earl, an ambassador and an admiral.
Anne Boleyn was determined to show the whole world that she would be a better wife for Henry than either Bessie or a French princess. She would not have been a complete stranger to the rulers of Europe who she wished to impress. She knew Francis I from her nine years at the French court. Charles V had been brought up in Burgundy, and would have been there during Anne’s two years as maid of honour to his aunt. They were of a similar age, although there is no evidence that they knew each other personally. Now she wished to build on these links.
On 11 October 1532 – about a month before Anne became pregnant with Elizabeth, and around the time she consummated her relationship with Henry – Anne and Henry set off to Calais to meet Francis I. This showed the world that the King of France supported the annulment. It was very important for Henry to have some international support. Among the thirty ladies accompanying Anne to Calais and Boulogne was her sister, Mary Boleyn. We can only imagine what Mary thought of this voyage – to try to persuade her ex-lover, the King of France, to support her sister’s marriage to another of her ex-lovers, the King of England.
The group sailed on The Swallow from Dover and stayed in Calais for ten days. It would have been very different from when Mary Boleyn travelled there as a maid of honour to the new queen of France. Now Mary Boleyn was the prospective sister-in-law of the King of England and could look forward to a glittering second marriage. However, as the discarded mistress of her sister’s fiancé, she must have been a slight embarrassment to the proceedings. Anne and Mary, who had not been brought up together and who were chalk and cheese in terms of looks and personality, do not appear to have been particularly close; neither does Henry appear to have retained any affection or respect for her.
Here Mary will have seen Francis and perhaps other men she had been involved with during her time in Paris, although Anne was the lady who first led Francis onto the floor and spent most of the night talking privately to him, perhaps reminiscing about her and her sister’s time at the French court. She is likely to have been as much a politician at this meeting as she was with the French ambassador, who she showed great favour to. Mary Boleyn is barely mentioned in the accounts. She could easily have been a thorn in Henry’s side, especially as he was insensitive enough to pursue her sister so soon after the end of their affair. There is no evidence that she did anything to anger her sister and new brother-in-law until she later married without their approval.
The accommodation for this meeting was beautifully and ostentatiously decorated. No restraint was shown in displaying to the French how rich and successful the English king was. One hundred and seventy dishes were served to the nobles. Six women were involved in the masque, where no one was expected to know who the ladies were, but of course it was Anne who led the women and approached the King of France to dance. All the ladies were dressed in expensive matching garments, ‘loose, gold-laced overdresses of cloth of gold, with sashes of crimson satin and tabards of cypress lawn’.21 It was not as competitive as the bankrupting extravaganza of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, but nonetheless a statement was being made before all of Christendom – Henry’s fiancée was accepted by the French.
The king wanted the whole of England to know that Francis had received Anne and he ensured this by commissioning a pamphlet, The Manner of the Triumph at Calais and Boulogne, to be distributed throughout London within the week and then spread across the rest of the country. It seems to have been very carefully worded. In the pamphlet, all the key attendants were named, including the new marquess of Pembroke. Precedence was very important in sixteenth-century society and Anne, as the highest-ranking English lady there, was correctly written first.
Next on the list should have been Anne’s aunt, Dorothy, countess of Derby. However, the second name was ‘my lady Mary’. Nobody would have thought immediately of Mary Boleyn, the widow of a knight, as ‘my lady Mary’ – this was the term used to describe Henry’s daughter. It was probably written thus to persuade people that Mary supported her parents’ annulment and had attended this gathering. Nobody at court would have been fooled, but the citizens of London may have believed that Katherine of Aragon’s daughter was now on her father’s side.
Two of the party were left behind with the French nobles: the thirteen-year-old duke of Richmond and his close friend, the earl of Surrey. Henry probably consummated his relationship with Anne at this time; he was now looking forward to conceiving a new – and legitimate – son. He was unlikely to need the duke of Richmond as his spare heir anymore. The boys joined the French princes, who led a wild life riding horses in a noisy gang through the streets in the middle of the night, firing pistols and throwing stones at people. Richmond became very close to the French princes, which could have been very useful to him in the future. Anne Boleyn may have been pleased that this rival for her lover’s affections was now so far away.
1. Cit. Fraser, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, p.176
2. Cit. Weir, Henry VIII: King and Court, p.291
3. Cit. Wood, Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies, p.15; Anne Boleyn to Henry VIII
4. Hall, Hall’s Chronicle, II, pp.145–7
5. Cit. Fraser, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, p.182
6. Cit. Lindsey, Divorced, Beheaded, Survived: A Feminist Reinterpretation of the Wives of Henry VIII, p.58
7. Cit. Byrne (ed.), The Letters of King Henry VIII, p.84
8. Ridley (ed.), The Love Letters of Henry VIII, p.511; circa June 1528
9. Ibid., p.65
10. Ibid., p.35 and p.43; written before 1527
11. Ibid., p.37; Henry on Anne Boleyn, written before July 1527
12. British Library, King’s MS 9, ff.66v, 231
13. Fraser, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, pp.69–70
14. L&P, I, pt. II, pp.419–20
15. Mattingly, Catherine of Aragon, p.190
16. L&P, IV, pt. III, no.2526; cit. Fraser, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, p.197
17. CSP, Spanish, IV, 349–52
18. L&P, VI, no.923. ‘Mr. Daunsy’ probably referring to Sir John Dauntesy, who was co-executor of Compton’s will and can therefore be assumed to be someone Compton trusted
19. L&P, VI, no.924
20. L&P, V, no.1114
21. Ives, Anne Boleyn, p.200