Wolf Hall Companion

by Lauren Mackay

  THE POLES

  The Pole family came from modest beginnings and is often confused with the more illustrious, but unrelated, de la Pole family. The Poles had a tenuous link to the Tudors through Geoffrey Pole, a Buckinghamshire squire whose wife, Edith, was the half-sister of Margaret Beaufort, Henry VII’s mother. Following Richard III’s death at Bosworth, Henry Tudor brokered the marriage between Edith’s son Richard and Lady Margaret, daughter of the Duke of Clarence, niece of two Yorkist kings: Edward IV and Richard III, and the granddaughter of Richard Neville, the Earl of Warwick. The mingling of Margaret’s Plantagenet and Yorkist blood cast a shadow over her family as rivals to Henry Tudor’s claim to the throne, and the marriage was necessary as a show of loyalty to the Tudors.

  Unfortunately, her younger brother Edward became a focus for those seeking an alternative claim as he was the only legitimate male Plantagenet heir to the throne. The new Tudor king was already grappling with insurrection and attempted invasions, and Edward was executed in 1499, just prior to Katherine of Aragon’s arrival in England, in what was deemed a necessary act to secure the Tudor throne. Margaret wisely remained silent.

  Richard Pole first served as Lord Chamberlain for Prince Arthur, and Margaret served as lady-in-waiting to the young princess, Katherine, as trusted members of the court and the fortunes of their four sons, Henry, Arthur, Reginald and Geoffrey, and daughter, Ursula, showed every promise. With Arthur’s death in 1502, Katherine’s household was dissolved, and Margaret lost her position. Her fortunes waned further when her husband died just three years later, leaving her with five children and very little else. On the brink of ruin, Margaret took lodgings at Syon Abbey, possibly with her two youngest children. Her eldest son, Henry, was made a royal ward, while Reginald was destined for a life in the Church.

  But these noble families were never entirely without resources, and with the ascension of Henry VIII, the Poles enjoyed a swift return to wealth and prestige. Margaret returned to serve Queen Katherine of Aragon and Henry VIII granted her a hereditary title, Countess of Salisbury, which made Margaret one of the wealthiest peers in the country. Her eldest son, Henry, was created Baron Montagu and Arthur would serve as one of six Gentlemen of the Privy Chamber, until his death in 1526.

  Henry VIII was especially fond of Reginald and, after the latter graduated from Oxford University, Henry heaped ecclesiastical rewards on him, despite the fact that Reginald was not yet ordained as a priest. Henry went on to fund his cousin’s matriculation at the University of Padua, a beneficence he would later come to regret.

  After 20 years of marriage, Henry’s determination to divorce Katherine had far-reaching effects. The loyalties of many noble families, particularly the Poles, lay with Katherine. Henry must have recognized that his relationship with Anne Boleyn was unpopular and so he tried to bribe Reginald to gain his support, offering him the lucrative Archbishopric of York and the Diocese of Winchester. But Pole rebuffed him and returned to Europe, dividing his time between Italy and France. In The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell gives a rather acerbic appraisal of Reginald: ‘The plain exterior gives no idea of the elaborate, useless nature of his mind, with its little shelves and niches for scruples and doubts.’ Reginald had many grave doubts about his royal cousin, from his divorce to his title of Supreme Head of the Church. He was under the illusion that he could publicly criticize and attack Henry while remaining out of reach – but his family were not.

  THE COURTENAYS

  While the family could trace their roots to France, unlike so many others, the Courtenays did not come to England following the Norman invasion; their story is rather less glorious. In the 12th century, Reginald de Courtenay quarrelled with the French king, Louis VII, and was forced to flee to England. He left behind several members of his family, including his daughter, who was promptly married, along with her family titles, to the king’s younger brother, Peter, who became Peter I of Courtenay. The family was now divided in two, with both branches connected to their respective crowns. Successive generations of Courtenays built on the family foundations, earning titles, wealth and status for their military prowess. They became an integral part of the royal fabric, with Sir Hugh Courtenay esteemed as one of the founding members of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, firmly establishing the family as part of England’s noble elite.

  By the 15th century, there were two main branches of Courtenays derived from the two sons of Hugh Courtenay, Earl of Devon, the eldest – and heir – Hugh Courtenay, and his younger brother, Philip. The latter formed what was known as a cadet line, and Cromwell would work well with William Courtenay, one of his descendants. With marriage still the best route to power, a marriage was arranged between William’s widowed daughter-in-law Catherine St Leger, a cousin of Anne Boleyn, and Cromwell’s nephew, Richard, which Anne objected to. Cromwell’s relationship with the main branch of Courtenays, however, could not have been more different.

  This line, descended from Hugh Courtenay, was considered one of the most noble and influential families in the country and, like the Poles, they could point to a very special royal lineage when, early on, William Courtenay married Catherine of York, the daughter of King Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville. His son, Henry Courtenay, was a close childhood friend and cousin of the future Henry VIII, who appointed him as a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, and he also held a position on the Privy Council. Henry was an ideal companion for the young King Henry – both were athletic and physically fit. The two young men were inseparable, and Henry indulged his cousin with the traditional hereditary titles and positions which had previously belonged to the family, such as High Steward of the Duchy of Cornwall. But the pinnacle of Courtenay’s career came with his elevation as Earl of Devon, and Marquess of Exeter, re-establishing the titles of his forebears.

  Courtenay was highly influential at court, and though the family publicly supported the regime – even when it came to the dangerous matters of the Oath of Succession and the Act of Supremacy – they despised Thomas Cromwell, and he them. Courtenay and his wife, Gertrude, were close to Katherine of Aragon, taking her side in the divorce matter. They made clear their distaste for Anne by refusing to attend her coronation. Henry was furious and demanded proof of loyalty by choosing Gertrude as godmother to Anne’s daughter, Princess Elizabeth. But it was a poor choice.

  Privately the Courtenays regarded Mary as the true heir to the throne, and Gertrude became one of Chapuy’s most trusted informants. They came dangerously close to committing treason when, like other conservatives of court, they met with Elizabeth Barton, the Holy Maid of Kent (see Chapter 3). Following her arrest, they quickly sought to distance themselves, though others who had visited her, notably Bishop John Fisher, were arrested.

  Gertrude Courtenay was pardoned and begged Cromwell to protect her and her husband from further censure. Mantel’s Cromwell advises her what to write in a letter to Henry; he recommends that she grovel, but Gertrude’s real letter to Henry was contrite and well-crafted as she took the blame upon herself. From 1533 onwards, Cromwell’s relationship with conservative factions such as the Courtenays and the Poles improved as his own relationship with Anne deteriorated and they played a small part in the machinations which contributed to her fall. It was an alliance borne of necessity, but one from which Cromwell was quick to extricate himself once Jane Seymour became queen. The two sides soon reverted to mutual suspicion and hostility, with Mantel’s Cromwell sending Thomas Wyatt’s mistress, Bess Darrell, into both the Pole and Courtenay households to glean any talk of treason. For now, Cromwell remained master of everything.

  SUCCESS AND SUCCESSION

  The year 1536 had been an extraordinary one. The country witnessed the death of one queen, the execution of another and the creation of a third – and all by the end of May. In The Mirror and the Light it is Thomas Boleyn who profoundly encapsulates what everyone must have felt: ‘We have seen such times, Lord Cromwell, events crowded into a week, that in ordinary times would have sustained the c
hroniclers for a decade.’ Cromwell now had an unprecedented, overarching view of the entire governmental system. His offices included: Lord Privy Seal, Master of the King’s Jewels, Keeper of the Hanaper, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Principal Secretary. Henry also allowed him to retain his religious title of Vicegerent or Vicar General, granted the previous year, thus an enormous degree of political power was now in the hands of a single minister of the king, rather than several. As Jane Seymour notes: ‘It is a thing never seen before, Lord Cromwell is the government, and the church as well.’

  Socially, Cromwell was equally in demand – he hunted, hawked, gambled and enjoyed dice in particular, he put on elaborate entertainments for the king at his own expense, his kitchens received game from Lubeckian merchants and ambassadors. He also spent a small fortune on wine. He continued to work well with those he had placed close to the throne, namely the Seymours, and the new queen and her family knew to whom they owed their success and their ever-rising fortunes. Cromwell and the court hoped the novelty of this peaceful new life would last, and that Henry would be less fractious, less unpredictable. But Henry was no longer the fit, athletic man of his youth; his leg had never healed following the jousting accident in January, and, through Cromwell’s eyes, we see the more mercurial Henry emerging – autocratic and increasingly difficult to predict.

  Mantel’s Cromwell keeps a journal, The Book Called Henry, in which he writes advice for his protégés on how to deal with the king, but as time goes by, he finds he has less and less to write, and what he has written is of no use in managing an increasingly dangerous monarch. Jane, on the other hand, begins to prove herself far more adept at managing Henry, though she struggles to convince him to allow his daughter Mary back into the fold. In this matter, both she and Mary underestimated Henry’s absolute determination to force Mary to submit, as her mother never had. Mary believed that with Anne’s death, Henry would welcome her back at court, but this notion was quickly dashed by Henry’s vehement insistence that Mary recognize that her mother’s marriage had been invalid, and that therefore that she is illegitimate. The second Act of Succession of 1536, declared both Henry’s daughters bastards, thereby removing them from the line of succession – and that, if he had no legitimate male children, Henry could nominate his heir.

  Heirs become a frequent theme in The Mirror and the Light, as Henry thunders into middle age, increasingly unwell, with aches and pains, petulant and bad-tempered, ‘dragging his new weight’. We are drawn into the personal lives of the young contenders around Henry: Henry’s illegitimate son, Henry Fitzroy and his young wife, Mary Fitzroy, daughter of the Duke of Norfolk; the king’s niece, Margaret Douglas; and his eldest daughter, Lady Mary. In The Mirror and the Light, their various intrigues are laid across Cromwell’s desk roughly at the same time, dramas so entwined that it is difficult to pick everything apart.

  THE LADY MARY

  The Lady Mary is Cromwell’s chief concern, and he has been grappling with her rehabilitation since 1535. In Bring Up the Bodies, she is uppermost in his mind as Henry lies unconscious following his jousting accident, much to Anne’s displeasure. But as Cromwell argues reasonably with Anne, he cannot hold a country with her baby in the cradle, therefore the young Mary is his first choice. Mary and her relationship with her father and with Cromwell form a large part of The Mirror and the Light, a reflection of her growing importance following Anne’s death after years of neglect and exile.

  Without her mother to continue her fight against Henry, Mary grew into a role of a beloved daughter, revered throughout the country and valued by her father. By 1536 the line of succession had become tangled: an illegitimate son, two illegitimate daughters, a nephew and a niece. Cromwell believed that if Henry were to die only Mary could unite the country. We know that within weeks of Anne’s execution the real Mary wrote to Cromwell begging him to intercede with her father on her behalf, but in The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell tells Chapuys that Mary must recognize that her mother’s marriage was unlawful and that she is not the king’s heir. Cromwell warns Chapuys to advise her to capitulate: ‘If Mary enrages her father, it will come to your door,’ a warning heeded by Chapuys. Mantel draws on history to show how closely Chapuys and Cromwell worked together to restore Mary.

  Cromwell’s early letters to Mary, supported by Chapuys, showed a genuine concern for her. Since Elizabeth’s birth, Mary had lived at Hatfield, forced to serve in her half-sister’s household. Anne’s paternal aunts, Lady Anne Shelton and her sister Alice Boleyn, managed the household from 1533 onwards, and during this time tried to persuade Mary to accept the title of ‘Lady’ as opposed to ‘Princess’. Lady Shelton was repeatedly chastised by Anne Boleyn for showing too much sympathy for the young girl. In The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell enjoys a close relationship with Lady Shelton and her husband, noting that she harbours no ill will towards him for the execution of her niece. Cromwell also sends Rafe Sadler and Thomas Wriothesley to visit Mary and explain her position, their respectful tones contrasting with the aggressive approach of the Duke of Norfolk and Bishop Sampson, who were sent by Henry on the same errand.

  In the midst of this battle of wills between Mary and her father, Reginald Pole sent his royal cousin a copy of his treatise, Pro ecclesiasticae unitatis defensione, a strong denunciation of Henry’s position as head of the English church; it also attacked Henry’s claim of royal supremacy and his second marriage. Reginald also called on the princes of Europe to depose Henry, without recognizing that such an act of treason endangered not only his family, but also Mary, whom he sought to champion.

  As Mantel’s Henry rages: ‘You see how it all works together? Pole exhorts Europe to take arms against me, and at the very same hour, my own daughter defies me.’ But rumours spread that the Poles and Courtenays planned to marry Reginald Pole to Mary Tudor and overthrow the king. To make matters much worse, Mary received numerous messages from the Pole family, and Gertrude Courtenay even visited her. Henry dismissed Henry Courtenay from the Privy Council and would become fixated on finding Reginald, and either having him brought to England to face justice or, even better, assassinated.

  Cromwell and Chapuys became greatly alarmed as Henry prepared legal proceedings against Mary, which could result in her execution, a move that shocked his own Privy Council. When William FitzWilliam, Henry’s Treasurer, spoke out against the proposal, he was summarily dismissed from the Council. The scene appears in The Mirror and the Light, with Cromwell pulling off FitzWilliam’s chain of office as he pushes him out of the room. But Henry assumes, rightly, it is only for show as he knows Cromwell is in agreement. Mantel’s Cromwell works with Chapuys to resolve Mary’s situation, then feigns despair at failing the king, and pretends that he fears for his reputation, even his life. But historically his fear was genuine. Henry ordered the arrests of several men who had been allies of Cromwell and acted against anyone who supported Mary. Several of Cromwell’s friends and supporters were brought in for questioning, thus Cromwell had every reason to feel anxious.

  In The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell summons Francis Bryan to the Tower for an interview. Cromwell knows that Francis, together with his brother-in-law, Nicholas Carew, supported Mary’s restoration as rightful heir, as did the Poles and Courtenays. Bryan’s mother, Lady Margaret, had been Mary and Elizabeth’s governess, and Cromwell instructs Bryan to visit his mother and ask her to persuade Mary to submit to her father. For now all efforts must be made to save Mary from her father, and herself.

  This was a critical moment for Henry and for Mary, and Mantel frames the collaboration of Cromwell and Chapuys to resolve the situation from historical records. It is more than likely that they would have met to discuss what Mary should write to her father. Although Mantel places Cromwell with his son and nephew, sitting at his desk trying to choose just the words that will placate her father, we are not entirely sure who drafted Mary’s letter. In his despatch to Charles V, Chapuys wrote that he had ‘put down in writing several candid and temperat
e statements’. Mantel gives these statements to Cromwell, though we may allow that Chapuys had decided to omit Cromwell’s involvement to his master.

  Throughout The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell’s relationship with Mary is ambiguous but there are seemingly elements of passion, the meaning of which remain just out of reach to the reader. In The Mirror and the Light, Mary’s scenes with Cromwell convey her pain and turmoil at betraying one parent for the love of the other. It is Rafe Sadler who delivers the draft letter to Henry for Mary to sign, which she does without reading it. Mary wants it to be over: she wants to be restored to favour and unlike her mother, she takes no comfort in being a martyr. Finally, Mary is reunited in an emotional visit with her father and his new queen. From Jane she receives a large diamond ring, the weight and size of which is measured in a flash by Mantel’s Henry as it is slipped onto Mary’s tiny finger.

  HENRY FITZROY

  One person who was likely to have been keen for Mary to remain estranged from her father (and therefore out of the succession race) was Henry VIII’s illegitimate son, Henry Fitzroy. Fitzroy, whose mother was one of Henry’s most well-known mistresses, Elizabeth Blount, is a minor character in the first two books, and historically Fitzroy’s value rose and fell depending on how many other legitimate heirs Henry was willing to acknowledge. Following Anne’s death in 1536 we see a young man who for the first time feels that the throne is very much within his grasp.

  It seems likely that Henry intended to make Fitzroy legitimate, making him Duke of Richmond and Somerset – even the name ‘Fitzroy’ comes from the Anglo-Norman, meaning ‘son of the king’. The boy was raised like a prince, and, as for his half-sister Mary, Cardinal Wolsey was appointed as his godfather and was in charge of his upbringing. Mantel’s Fitzroy maintains an affection for the long-dead Cardinal, which surprises Cromwell. As Fitzroy tells Cromwell, he barely saw his father as a child, but Wolsey gave him toys. There is evidence to support a close relationship between Wolsey and his godson, with the Cardinal sending young Fitzroy to Yorkshire to head up his own court and council.