The Other Tudors (36 page)

F
ollowing the death of Jane Seymour, Henry went into extravagant mourning. It was left to Thomas Cromwell to raise the matter of another queen – and the issue of more children – even before Jane Seymour was interred. He approached the King to remarry ‘for the good of the realm’.

Henry had time to look for a wife. He had a lawfully born son, as well as two bastard daughters and so he could now make his mark on European diplomacy with a significant marriage. Henry had made two marriages amongst his own subjects, but neither of these had enhanced his international reputation or forged useful links abroad, nor had they generated a substantial dowry.

Henry’s ministers approached several courts with a view to entering into a diplomatic marriage. The King of France was making overtures to the Emperor and if they allied, this would leave England out in the cold, vulnerable to French attack. Therefore, a French alliance would seem to be more beneficial. The widowed Marie of Guise, daughter of Claude, duc de Guise of Lorraine, was chosen as a possible prospective bride, but unfortunately, by the time Henry had arranged for Sir Peter Mewtas, courtier and gentleman of the privy chamber, to go to France and report on the lady, Marie was already betrothed to Henry’s nephew, James V of Scotland.

If an alliance with France was not possible, what about the Empire? The Emperor’s niece, Christina, was the widowed Duchess of Milan, and Sir Thomas Wyatt was instructed to make tentative enquiries as to her availability. At the same time, Sir Philip Hoby was sent to the court of Mary of Hungary, Regent of the Low Countries, where Christina was staying, to report on her physical appearance. The court painter, Hans Holbein, was told to produce her likeness. Holbein’s portrait showed her to be exceedingly charming and the King became more cheerful at the prospect of a pretty young wife. A plan was drawn up that Henry would marry Christina, and that his daughter Mary would marry Dom Luis of Portugal, the heir to the throne. Sir John Hutton wrote to Cromwell in December 1537, describing Christina, thus: ‘The Duchess of Milan … is of the age of 16 years, very high of stature for that age … of goodly personage of body, and competent of beauty, of favour excellent, soft of speech, and very gentle in countenance … She resembleth much one Mistress Shelton, that some time waited in the court upon Queen Anne.’
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Unfortunately there were problems. Henry and Christina stood within the Church’s proscribed degrees of consanguinity, and the Pope was hardly likely to give Christina a dispensation to marry a King who had expelled him and his Church from England; Princess Mary was technically a bastard, which also made her a poor match for the heir to the throne of Portugal. The Emperor Charles was quite prepared to ally with England against France, but he had no intention of seeing Christina’s Duchy of Milan fall into English hands, or of supporting Henry in the teeth of opposition from the Papacy.

Francis I put forward the names of more French princesses to Henry. Possible candidates were Louise and Renée of Guise, Marie of Vendôme and Anne of Lorraine. Philip Hoby and Hans Holbein had their work cut out providing reports and painting portraits of these ladies. Eventually, to speed up matters, Henry even suggested to the King of France that a number of eligible princesses should be assembled at Calais so he could come and inspect them before making a choice. As can be imagined, Francis I vetoed the idea, adding that French ladies were not commonly displayed like brood mares for sale.

The delays proved costly when Henry’s negotiations fell through entirely. In June 1538 Francis I and Charles V met at Nice and signed a 10-year treaty; neither made any mention of England, leaving her friendless and vulnerable. Henry now realised that a new alliance had to be found, and quickly. Cromwell believed that an alliance with the German states would be most valuable to England as a balance against the French and Spanish–Imperial powers. To this end, he settled upon the second daughter of the Duke of Cleves, 24-year-old Anne, since Sybilla, the eldest, was already married. In the previous year it had been suggested that Princess Mary should marry William, then heir to the Duke of Cleves, Anne’s brother, but it had come to nothing.

The Duchy of Cleves, incorporating the states of Mark-Jülich-Berg, was of considerable importance amongst the German states, lying as it did on the lower Rhine. Duke William wanted the alliance as badly as Henry: the English King needed a confederate against a French–Imperial alliance, and Duke William wanted a powerful ally in his dispute with Charles V for control of Guelderland, which William claimed through his mother. The Cleves family also had the advantage that, like Henry himself, they had never fully espoused the new Protestant religion, but, like him, saw themselves as Catholics who did not consider it appropriate to be ruled by a corrupt Papacy.

The King, ever the romantic, sent Holbein to paint Anne of Cleves’ portrait and requested the usual diplomatic report on her appearance. Christopher Mont reported to Cromwell, and he assured Henry that Anne’s elder sister, Sybilla, was considered to be a beauty, but Anne ‘excelleth as far the Duchess [Sybilla] as the golden sun excelleth the silver moon.’ Similarly, Holbein’s portrait miniature of Anne of Cleves, enclosed in a carved ivory box shaped like a rose, is romantically supposed to have persuaded Henry that here was a chance to mix politics with personal delight. In the event, the portrait was later agreed to have been hopelessly flattering.

Anne of Cleves possessed none of the characteristics that would have made her acceptable to Henry. She spoke only Low German, and she could only dance slow, formal German steps. Her one skill was in needlework, on which ladylike practice she spent most of her time, and much was made of her modesty (when the King’s representative tried to see the lady, she was so wrapped and draped that he could hardly make out her features at all). Nicholas Wotton reported that she had no musical accomplishments, ‘for they take it here in Germany for a rebuke and an occasion of lightness that great ladies should be learned or have any knowledge of music …’
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It would be more correct to say that she had been brought up by her mother to be formal and worthy, adequately educated and without any sparkle. It would be hard to find a personality that would appeal less to Henry VIII.

In 1539 Henry married Anne of Cleves by proxy, a union that was to last a bare six months. Henry recognised that this marriage was purely political and that if his bride pleased him, he would have to look on that as a heaven-sent bonus.

Anne travelled slowly from Cleves to Calais, where Lord Lisle, the governor, received her. Lady Lisle wrote to her daughter, one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, that Anne seemed kind, and suggested that she would be an easy mistress to serve. In a letter dated 22 December 1539, Anne Bassett wrote to her mother: ‘I humbly thank your ladyship of the news you write me of her Grace [Anne of Cleves], that she is so good and gentle to serve and please. It shall be no little rejoicement to us, her Grace’s servants here [London], that shall attend daily upon her …’

While in Calais Anne attempted to master English card games and began learning about English court manners. She was going to try her best to be a good queen to Henry and to England. The King had to wait to meet his queen, however, as bad weather delayed the sailing beyond Christmas, and it was not until late December that Anne finally set sail. When she arrived in England on 27 December 1539, Anne was met at Dover by a retinue of nobles led by Henry’s dearest confidante, Charles Brandon, whose young wife, Katherine d’Eresby, was to be one of her ladies. They travelled to Rochester in Kent for New Year’s Day.

On New Year’s Day, King Henry played one of those masquerades that he loved and which had been so successful 30 years before:

Henry had never played his game of disguised, romantic stranger with so little success. Anne did not know that she was supposed to be intrigued and entranced by this handsome and powerful gentleman whose obvious nobility should have been clear. Instead she may well have been embarrassed by personal contact with someone she took for an impertinent noble. Nobody in the Court of Cleves had ever behaved in such a way and Anne must have been puzzled and possibly a little frightened. It was only when Henry reappeared in his own character that she was able to respond, but the damage had been done. He could have accepted awe, excitement, even a little frisson of desire or fear, but he would never accept the indifference of a bride who barely looked at him.

When Henry left Anne at Rochester Abbey on New Year’s Day, he was not impressed. Travelling back to Greenwich by water, he told Sir Anthony Browne, ‘I see nothing in this woman as men report of her and I marvel that wise men would make such reports as they have done.’ That evening, Cromwell, who had praised her, asked Henry how he liked his bride; the King replied, ‘Nothing so well as she is spoken of. If I had known as much before as I know now, she should never have come into the realm.’

Charles de Marillac, the French Ambassador, wrote to Francis I that Anne was, ‘tall and thin, of middling beauty, with determined and resolute countenance.’ To the Constable, Anne de Montmorency, he wrote she was, ‘not as young as was at first thought, nor so handsome as people affirmed.’ Lady Browne, who was a member of Anne’s household, wrote that she was so unsuitable that the King was never likely to love her.
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They were married in great splendour on Twelfth Night (6 January 1540) in her rooms at Greenwich. Henry sulked throughout, and Anne found herself married to a man who barely spoke to her. Henry told anyone who would listen that he had been badly treated, and that he was only going through with the marriage for the sake of England, ‘… if it were not to satisfy the world and my realm, I would not do that I must do this day for none earthly thing.’ The wedding night turned into a disaster, with the King maintaining he found the Queen completely unattractive, and the Queen displaying all the enthusiasm of a totally innocent virgin – he didn’t want to and she didn’t know how.

The next day the King told Cromwell she was, ‘nothing fair, and had very ill smells about her.’
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Whereas Henry’s description of her as a ‘Flanders mare’ may be apocryphal, she turned out to be a tall and anxious woman, with a pockmarked face and a big nose, who talked with a heavy German accent. Henry certainly did remark that, having felt her naked breasts, he did not believe she was a virgin. He also later claimed that he could not bring himself to consummate the marriage. Henry’s choice tended to fall on vivacious beauties, not sturdy German hausfraus. For four nights, the ill-matched couple shared a bed, but, according to Henry, only to sleep. At the end of this time, he said, ‘I liked her not well before, but now I like her much worse.’
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Still, for the sake of the Cleves alliance, the marriage continued.

When, some weeks later, her ladies quizzed Anne on whether or not she might be pregnant, she said, no. Lady Edgecombe asked her, ‘How is it possible for Your Grace to know that and lie every night with the King?’ Lady Rochford went a little further, ‘By Our Lady, Madam, I think your Grace is a maid still.’ Anna told them that at night, when they were alone in bed together, ‘he kisses me and taketh my by the hand and biddeth me, “Goodnight, sweetheart”, and in the morning kisses me and biddeth me, “Farewell, darling”.’ Lady Rochford told her, ‘Madam, there must be more than this, or it will be long ere we have a Duke of York, which all this realm much desireth’. Anne seemed puzzled, ‘Nay, is not this enough? I am contented with this, for I know no more.’
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On 4 February Henry and Anne came by barge from Greenwich to Westminster; they were greeted by a 1,000-gun salute from the Tower. She now joined her new household of 126 people, a few German, but mostly English. Henry had insisted that all her ladies should be ‘fair’, that is, good looking. All the noble families wished to place their relatives in service with the queen.

Cromwell could see the way the wind was blowing. Almost immediately he began making enquiries about a precontract between Anne and the Duke of Lorraine; if valid, it would mean that the marriage with Henry might be illegal and could be dissolved. Unfortunately this supposed contract had already been examined, and it had been accepted by all parties as being irrelevant. At this stage Cromwell seemed to be managing things quite well. In May 1540 he was made Earl of Essex and Lord Great Chamberlain. He had matters in hand to end the Cleves marriage and even when William of Cleves backed out of marrying Princess Mary, and looked for a French wife, this was not seen as a major problem; he would still make a good ally against the Emperor. Religious divisions and quarrels were to seal Cromwell’s fate. These problems, caused by radical Protestants, were largely due to Henry’s policy over many years, done with his agreement and approval, but Cromwell was blamed for everything that now went wrong. He was arrested on 10 June, charged with treason (maladministration and abuse of power), found guilty, and executed on 28 July.