Six Wives of Henry VIII

by Alison Weir

  There remained only Margaret Pole, the CountessofSalisbury, former governess to the Princess Mary and the mother of Lord Montagu, Cardinal Pole and Geoffrey Pole. During the enquiry into the activitiesofher sons, the King's officers had searched the old lady's house and found a banner embroidered with the royal arms of England: it lacked any of the differences appropriate to any member of the royal house of lower rank than the sovereign. The Countess, a respectable dowager of sixty-six, denied that she had ever intended to dispute the right of the King to the throne, but her staunch protests could not save her, and she too was committed to the Tower in March 1539. Her imprisonment would be rigorous: she was put in a cold cell without adequate food or clothing. Nor was there any hope of release. The King wanted her out of the way because, obsessively, he feared that, even at her age, she might be made the focal point of a revolt against the Crown. Added to the supposed treason of her sons and herself was an old score the King meant to settle: the Countess's championship of Queen Katherine. On 12 May 1539, Parliament passed an Act of Attainder against Margaret Pole, whereby she forfeited all rights to her life, title, estates and goods. The King immediately appropriated all her property, but he did not order her execution, leaving her to languish in prison, perhaps in the hope that death would intervene before long.

  With the future of his dynasty assured by only one little boy, who was subject to all the ills that carried off children in that age of high infant mortality, Henry needed to remarry, and soon. He had begun his search for a bride in November 1537, one month after Queen Jane's death. Initially, he and Cromwell had decided to opt for a marriage alliance with France in order to counterbalance the extensive power of the Emperor, and also because Henry did not want another Spanish bride. King Francis had marriageable daughters, and it was said that there were other beautiful ladies of high rank available in France. Late in November, Henry approached the French ambassador, Castillon, and confided his preference for a French marriage. The ambassador obligingly suggested a few possible brides, but Henry was being cautious, fearing that his personal requirements might be brushed aside in the interests of politics. He told Castillon he wished to see the ladies in question and get to know them a little before making a decision. Castillon, who had never heard of such a preposterous and insulting idea, replied caustically, 'Perhaps, Sire, you would like to try them one after the other, and keep the one you found the most agreeable.' Henry, he recorded, blushed at this, and did not pursue the matter any more at that time. But a few days later he saw Castillon again and, undeterred, suggested that potential French brides be brought to Calais for his inspection. When King Francis was told, he laughed, and said 'It would seem they meant to do with women there as with their geldings: collect a number and trot them out to take which goes best!' However, he was not having his daughters or the ladies of his court being taken like prize animals to market, and he refused to sanction the suggestion.

  Henry VIII was not to be put off. Although he preferred the idea of a French marriage, his ambassadors abroad were instructed to report on other likely brides. John Button, the English envoy in Brussels, reported that the Duke of Cleves had a daughter 'but there is not great praise either of her personage or her beauty'. He then went on to say that the Duchess of Milan, who had been born Christina of Denmark, had just arrived in Brussels; she was the Emperor's niece, sixteen years old, very tall and 'of excellent beauty'. Her speech was soft, and she had a gentle face; in Hutton's opinion, she resembled Lady Shelton 'that used to wait on Queen Anne'. The young Duchess had only recently been widowed, her elderly husband having died in Italy, and she was still wearing black mourning clothes.

  There is none in these parts for beauty of person and birth to compare with the Duchess; she is not so pure white as the late Queen, whom God pardon, but when she chanceth to smile, there appeareth two pits [dimples] in her cheeks and one in her chin, the 1 which becometh her right excellently well.

  Hutton's missive was sent to a member of the Privy Council, Sir Thomas Wriothesley, who showed it to the King. When Henry read of the charms of the Duchess of Milan, he was tempted to abandon his plans to make a French marriage in order to pursue the lovely

  Christina. After all, she had excellent connections. Born in 1521, she was the daughter of King Christian of Denmark by Isabella of Austria, the Emperor's sister. At the age of fourteen, she had been married to Francesco Maria Sforza, Duke of Milan, who had died in November 1535. She had now come to live with her aunt, Mary of Hungary, Regent of the Netherlands, in Brussels, until another husband could be found for her.

  Everyone agreed that the Duchess of Milan was beautiful, and her extreme youth was in her favour, since her character could be more easily moulded to suit her husband. But Henry had reservations; he was growing fat and preferred buxom women like Katherine and Jane had been, not slim ones like Anne Boleyn, and Christina was reported to be of slender build. 'I am big in person and have need of a big wife,' the King declared, abandoning for the present any ideas of courting her. He had heard of the charms of a French noblewoman, Mary of Guise, and was 'so amorous' at the prospect of allying himself to her that he was now disinclined to consider anyone else, even though he was bound to concede that Christina of Milan was eminently suitable in most respects.

  Mary of Guise was the eldest daughter of Claude, Duke of Guise, one of the most powerful men in France, being related to the royal house of Valois. Like Christina, Mary was also a widow; she had been married to Francis, Duke of Longueville, until his death in June 1537; but unlike Christina, she was of mature age, being twenty- two, and - more importantly - had borne two sons. Rumour had it that she was as buxom as the King could desire. Henry thought she was a highly suitable candidate for the vacant consort's throne, and in January 1538, after a very quiet Christmas at Greenwich, he put out a feeler for Mary's hand. The lady, however, being given advance warning of his imminent proposal, hurriedly accepted that of her other suitor, Henry's nephew, James V of Scotland, whom she married the following May.

  Henry was disappointed but undaunted, and Cromwell tried to alleviate his master's sense of rejection by suggesting that he return to his earlier intention of paying court to the Duchess of Milan. In March 1538, the King sent his court painter, Hans Holbein, to Brussels to paint Christina's portrait, and at around this time the merry widower discarded his mourning garments for Jane Seymour. Yet although his grief for her had abated, he was in constant pain from his bad leg, and in May 1538 he was forced to submit to the attentions of the barber surgeons and have his abscess lanced. This relieved the pain somewhat, but it did not cure it. The King's sporting activities were now more or less curtailed: no longer could he ride in the lists, but was forced to sit and watch the galling spectacle of younger, fitter men doing what he had once done better. And, to make matters worse, increasing immobility was making him more and more obese, and his once splendid head of red-gold hair was thinning. To mask the ravages of advancing age and ill health, Henry dressed himself more sumptuously than ever before, and set a new fashion for the men of his court of a square look with built-up shoulders and bulky sleeves: the larger the man, the better the style suited him. No longer did the King's increasing girth look conspicuous, for every man of fashion was doing his best to emulate his sovereign.

  Henry's temper was less easily controlled, and constant pain and envy of others did not serve to improve it. Those that were closest to him, especially Cromwell, suffered the most from his irascibility. Henry turned on his Lord Privy Seal at least twice a week, bawling him out and calling him a knave and other derisory names, and sometimes he hit him on the head, pounding him soundly, so that Cromwell would leave the King's chamber shaking with fright and with rumpled hair, albeit with a smile on his face that acknowledged that this was the price he had to pay for his privileged position. Others, like the Poles and the Exeters, experienced the more deadly consequences of the King's anger.

  By the middle of 1538, England's relations with both Spain and France had det
eriorated; at the same time, Charles V and Francis I had drawn closer together. In June 1538, they signed the Treaty of Nice, which was intended to bind them in friendship for ten years, and although this was not an offensive treaty against Henry VIII, it did leave him in political isolation. Nevertheless, he had received Holbein's finished portrait of the Duchess of Milan and been enchanted with it, and in September an English embassy led by Wriothesley was sent to Brussels to convey the King's proposal of marriage. On 6 October, they saw the Regent Mary, who gave them permission on the Emperor's behalf to approach Christina, who agreed to see them the following day.

  The young Duchess was very outspoken. The idea of marrying Henry VIII did not appeal to her, and she declared as much with candour. She said, reported the ambassadors,

  that the King's Majesty was in so little space rid of the queens that she dare not trust his Council, though she durst trust his Majesty; for her council suspecteth that her great-aunt was poisoned, that the second was innocently put to death, and the third lost for lack of keeping in her childbed.

  If she had two heads, she said, 'one should be at his Grace's service!' She then told Sir Thomas Wriothesley that he should not labour any further 'for I mind not to fix my heart that way,' saying she thanked God she was not 'of so light sort'.

  When Wriothesley asked her what her real inclination was, she would only say that she was at the Emperor's command.

  Marry! [replied Wriothesley] Then I may hope to be among the Englishmen that shall be first acquainted with my new mistress, for the Emperor hath instantly desired it. Oh, Madam, how happy shall you be if it be your chance to be matched with my master! You shall be matched with the most gentle gentleman that liveth, his nature so benign and pleasant that I think to this day no man hath heard many angry words pass his lips!

  These lies did not deceive Christina, who stood her ground and refused to commit herself. Later, she confided her reluctance to the Emperor, who was sympathetic, with the result that the imperial Council made it obvious to Henry VIII that his suit was hopeless.

  By that time Henry was only too pleased to withdraw. For some time, Cromwell had been urging him to forget his religious scruples and ally himself to one of the Protestant German Princes, a move which he predicted would tip the balance of power in Europe in England's favour once more. The King was well aware of the cool wind blowing in his direction from France and the Empire, and also aware that the Protestant states of Germany were a permanent thorn in the Emperor's side. An alliance between England and one of these states might well divert Charles from any thought of joining with France to make war upon England. Cromwell now remembered that, back in November 1537, Sir John Button had mentioned that the Duke of Cleves had an unmarried daughter. In fact, he had two. John III, DukeofCleves, was fifty-eight, and a Protestant; his marriage to Mary of Jiilich-Berg-Ravensberg had produced four children. His son, William, born in 1516, would succeed him in 1539 as Duke of Cleves. His eldest daughter, Sybilla, an auburn-haired beauty whose charm has been immortalised in a portrait by Lucas Cranach, had been married in 1526, at the age of twelve, to John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, one of the most zealous Lutheran rulers in Europe. The two younger daughters, Anne, born on 22 September 1515 in the ducal capital of Dusseldorf, and Amelia, born in 1517, were as yet unmarried. Henry VIII was now toying with the idea of taking one or other as his bride. When the Duke of Cleves learned of this, he rightly perceived that it would be a brilliant match for whichever girl was chosen, and immediately offered his elder daughter to Henry.

  When, in late 1538, the Pope learned of the executions of Montagu and Exeter, and reissued the Bull of Excommunication of 1534 against Henry, the attitude of France and the Empire hardened towards England, and an alliance with Cleves seemed more attractive. Naturally, as a Protestant, the Duke of Cleves could be counted upon to remain friendly in the face of papal hostility.

  On 12 January 1539, Charles V and Francis I signed a new treaty at Toledo, by the terms of which both agreed not to make any fresh alliances without the consent and knowledge of the other. This sealed the estrangement between Henry and his former allies and his resolve to make an alliance with Cleves. In February, the King told Wriothesley that his Council were urging him daily to arrange a fourth marriage in order to beget more heirs to ensure the succession. They had warned him that age was 'coming fast on, and that the time flyeth and slippeth marvellously away'. For this reason, he was not minded to waste any more time. Cromwell, whose brainchild the Cleves match had been, was appointed Lord Great Chamberlain by way of reward, and in March, Henry sent Nicholas Wotton and Robert Barnes, a well-known Protestant who would be likely to find favour with Duke John, as envoys to Cleves, to arrange a marriage with either the Lady Anne or the Lady Amelia.

  The English ambassadors were well received in Dusseldorf, but not by Duke John. He had just died, and in his place was his serious- minded, Protestant son William, a young man of twenty-three. William had strong ideas about feminine modesty, and when his sisters were brought in to be introduced to Wotton and Barnes, they were so well covered with 'a monstrous habit and apparel' that the ambassadors could see very little of their faces, let alone their figures. Later, when the sisters had withdrawn, Wotton complained about this to the Duke, who retorted, 'Would you see them naked?' He had no high opinion of moral standards in England.

  Wotton turned to Cromwell for help. As a result, on 23 April 1539, Cromwell dispatched Hans Holbein to Cleves, as well as another envoy, Christopher Mont, who carried instructions to the envoys to procure portraits of Anne and Amelia. Mont arrived ahead of Holbein, and in due course Wotton and Barnes appeared before Duke William and requested permission for portraits to be made. The Duke said he would consider the matter, and then kept them waiting for days. Mont intervened, and persisted in repeating the request each day, while Wotton and Barnes, in a state of great agitation, wrote to Cromwell and begged him to excuse the delay to the King, adding that by all reports the Lady Anne was the better favoured of the two princesses. At length, William said he was happy for his sisters' likenesses to be painted, but only by his own court painter, Lucas Cranach, who happened to be sick just then. When Cranach had recovered and was able to complete the portraits, William would send them on.

  Cromwell reported all this to Henry, adding,

  Every man praiseth the beauty of the said Lady Anne, as well for her face as for her person, above all other ladies excellent. She as far excelleth the Duchess of Saxony as the golden sun excelleth the silver moon. Every man praiseth the good virtues and honesty with shamefacedness which plainly appeareth in the gravity of her countenance.

  Undoubtedly, Cromwell was exaggerating what he had been told. Few had actually seen very much of Anne of Cleves's charms, for she was always well swathed in cumbersome clothing when she appeared in public, and such occasions were rare. Her upbringing had been very strict, and anything approaching frivolity had been frowned upon. Yet Cromwell had good reason to exaggerate: this match had been his idea from the first, and it was vitally important to him that it should be successfully concluded. It would not be an exaggeration to say that his whole future depended upon that, nor is it beyond the bounds of reason to suppose that Cromwell had sent Hans Holbein off with instructions to make the lady look as attractive as possible in her portrait.

  When the King read Cromwell's letter he was entranced. This princess, it seemed, was a paragon of beauty and womanly modesty, though it appeared that her brother was reluctant to let her go. He kept raising objections to the marriage: he said his sisters had been raised in a narrow environment of virtuous industry - how then would either of them fare as queen in a court known for its licentious habits? He said he was too poor to afford a dowry. He said that, in view of what had happened to the King's other wives, he felt that any woman marrying Henry VIII would only know insecurity and unhappiness. These objections were all duly conveyed to Cromwell, and a reply came back speedily. The King had decided he would take the Lady Anne without a
dowry if her portrait pleased him. This was a very generous offer, and one that an impoverished ruler could not afford to turn down. The young Duke quickly capitulated, agreed to the marriage, and gave Holbein permission to paint Anne's likeness.

  Holbein set to work at once, and the result was one of the most exquisite portrait miniatures ever painted, which may be seen today in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. Anne smiles out demurely from an ivory frame carved to resemble a Tudor rose. Her complexion is clear, her gaze steady, her face delicately attractive. She wears a head-dress in the Dutch style which conceals her hair, and a gown with a heavily bejewelled bodice. Everything about Anne's portrait proclaimed her dignity, breeding and virtue, and when Henry VIII saw it, he made up his mind at once that this was the woman he wanted to marry. Cromwell breathed a sigh of relief, and the marriage negotiations went ahead.

  The choice of a Protestant bride for the King of England led to avid speculation in Europe, and especially in Lutheran circles. Christopher Mont wrote to the Elector of Saxony, Anne's brotherinlaw, to say that the Protestant cause would be greatly advanced once Anne became Queen, 'for the King is so uxorious that the best way of managing him is through his wives'. English Protestants believed that their new Queen might well be another Anne Boleyn, and that they would once again have a friend and champion upon the throne. Yet Mont was inaccurate in his assessment of Henry VIII, who was never uxorious, expected unquestioning obedience from all his wives, and reacted brutally when he did not get it. Henry assumed that Anne of Cleves would be happy to conform to the Catholic form of worship when she became Queen of England, and there is no evidence to show that she did otherwise from the time of her arrival. When she died, she died a professed Catholic, and it seems that the transition from one faith to another had been fairly effortless. Lutherans in England were therefore destined to be disappointed in her.