Author: Gareth - Editor
Royal History Geeks caught up with Dr Owen Emmerson, residents historian and castle supervisor at Hever Castle.
The magnificent Hever Castle was the home of Anne Boleyn. We spoke to Owen about the huge role it has played in history and its importance in the lives of legendary figures.
We also talked about Hever’s vast collection of portraiture and explored the elusive question of what Anne Boleyn may have actually looked like.
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Lady Margaret Beaufort was the mother of Henry VII. She played a vital role in establishing the Tudor dynasty on the throne of England. In recent years, she has been much maligned in popular fiction.
I am joined by two authors and experts to discuss the real Margaret Beaufort. How accurate are the depictions we see in fiction? What were her real qualities? What is her legacy?
Nicola Tallis is the author of ‘Uncrowned Queen’, a recent full-length biography on Margaret. Buy Nicola’s wonderful book.
Nathen Amin is the founder of the Henry Tudor Society and author of ‘The House of Beaufort.’ Check out his amazing biography of Margaret’s family.
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Ever get that feeling that people are making fun of your appearance behind your back? If so, spare a thought for poor Anne of Cleves. She’s been trying to shake off that feeling for almost 500 years.
Anne and Henry VIII’s non-love story is well known to most Royal History Geeks. After the death of his beloved Jane Seymour, Henry allowed his ministers to open international negotiations for a new bride. Each minister had their own political and religious agenda. Cromwell eventually triumphed by convincing Henry of the virtues of an alliance with the almost-protestant province of Cleves. The beauty of its princess was a major draw. Hans Holbein, the great artist of the Tudor court, was dispatched to Cleves to paint Anne’s portrait. The result did not disappoint. Henry fell instantly in love.
But his delusions were quickly shattered.
Upon meeting his new bride, Henry expressed dismay. “I like her not,” he is supposed to have proclaimed. While it was too late to postpone the nuptials, he quickly informed his doctor that the union remained unconsummated. He complained that Anne had been unable to arouse him and that her body was undesirable. Even her personal hygiene, Henry suggested, left much to be desired. He never actually used the term ‘Flanders mare’ to describe her. But it’s easy to see why it stuck.
Anne’s side of the story remains a mystery. It’s possible that she was no great beauty. Most people aren’t. But there are several reasons to think that she was far from ugly. Here’s just a few of them.
Upon arriving in England, Anne believed she had several days to prepare herself for meeting the King. But an infatuated Henry couldn’t wait. Accompanied by five of his councillors, he went to Anne disguised as a messenger, bearing a gift from the King.
The cultivated Katherine of Aragon or the sophisticated Anne Boleyn would have recognised straight away that this was a courtly game. The messenger was clearly her knight in disguise and her heart should recognise him at once. Sadly, no one had prepared Anne of Cleves for the courtly culture of England. When the ‘messenger’ grabbed and kissed her, she was reportedly ‘abashed’. She proceeded to treat him as a servant and largely ignored him.
This is the moment it all went wrong for Henry and Anne. She had demonstrated her cultural ignorance. He had been publicly humiliated. What is less often remarked upon, is Henry’s initial reaction to Anne. He had fallen in love with her portrait and was said to be disappointed with the real thing. Yet, his first action upon meeting her was to grab her and kiss her. Was he just swept up in the moment? Or, when he first set eyes on the Princess, did he conclude that she was eminently grabbable and kissable?
2. Anne seemed to think she was more attractive than Katherine Parr
While Anne was surely happy to escape certain aspects of her marriage, there are signs that she felt slighted when Henry did not take her back after the fall of Katheryn Howard. When it was announced that the King was to marry Lady Latimer (better known to us as ‘Katherine Parr’) Anne was heard to remark that she was a good deal more attractive than the Queen to be.
Obviously, the fact Anne thought positively about her appearance doesn’t mean that others agreed. We can all delude ourselves. But it should be noted that the imperial ambassador Chapuys, who reported these remarks, was quite capable of adding his own opinions to his observations. If he had felt that Anne was deluded, he might well have mentioned it.
3. Holbein was never punished for the portrait of Anne
As we know, Henry fell in love with a portrait. Given his reaction to Anne once they met, it is often assumed the painting must have been deliberately distorted. Yet, Hans Holbein, the artist behind the miniature that captivated Henry’s heart, remained in favour. He stayed on the King’s payroll and went on to paint another portrait of Henry.
Holbein may have embellished a little. That was to be expected. Alison Weir has also noted that, when compared to some of Anne’s other portraits, it’s clear that Holbein chose to paint Anne at her most flattering angle. But there’s a difference between a flattering picture and a fake one.
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Ultimately Henry and Anne lacked one crucial ingredient: chemistry. That concept which is so hard to define yet so essential for the blossoming of romance. Though he would never have used the word, it was an important concept to the King. He had built up such an impression of Anne in his head. He had fallen in love with a woman that didn’t exist. She had failed her first courtly challenge. They were doomed from the start.
In later years, a friendship emerged. They ate together and talked. Henry seems to have enjoyed her company. She may have felt the same. Perhaps if the circumstances had been different and Henry had been allowed to fall for her freely as he had all the other loves of his life, history would have taken a different turn.
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Shortly after becoming King in 1483, the 12-year-old Edward V was lodged in the Tower of London to await his coronation. His uncle and Lord Protector, the Duke of Gloucester soon arranged for the young King’s brother, Richard, Duke of York, to join them.
But the day of the coronation never came. Instead, it was announced that the boys were illegitimate – the result of a bigamous marriage – and that their Uncle would reluctantly reign as Richard III. In the weeks that followed the boys were seen playing in the grounds or looking out of windows. But such sightings soon stopped. By the end of the year, they were widely presumed to be dead.
To the minds of many historians, the circumstantial evidence weighs heavily toward Richard’s guilt. He had the motive, means and opportunity. The Princes were in his custody. But if Richard is the most likely candidate, he is hardly the only one. A host of others have been accused of the crime over the past five centuries. Some who have studied the subject, don’t believe the boys died at all. And there is no hard evidence that they did.
No one wants to believe that an uncle could order the death of his nephews. Any alternative theories are going to be attractive. But when we start to scrutinise those on offer, each can, sadly, be found wanting.
Let’s take a quick look at them.
1. The Princes in the Tower were never killed
I would love this to be true. Even 500 years later, the thought of what might have happened to those boys is chilling. Could they have escaped a brutal end? Might they have exchanged sovereignty for survival?
Sadly, I think it’s unlikely. The theories range from Richard stashing the Princes somewhere else to a secret deal between Elizabeth Wydeville and her brother-in-law. Secret identities and alternative careers as construction workers in Colchester are all offered as possibilities.
Others still, argue that someone sympathetic to the Princes managed to smuggle one or both from the Tower to safety. Many would identify the imposter Perkin Warbeck as Richard, Duke of York, believing that the younger boy had somehow escaped his uncle’s custody. Could the man sent to do the deed have taken mercy on him?
The belief that Richard had killed the Princes cost him dear. Some could accept him as King but never tolerate child murder. An unlikely coalition formed against him. The remnants of Lancaster and supporters of his late brother, united against Richard’s reign. Ultimately, they would take his life and his crown at Bosworth Field. Had Richard been able to produce the Princes, this shaky alliance would have fractured immediately.
So why didn’t he? That the boys were dead, and could not therefore be produced, is not the only explanation. But it is, sadly, the most likely one.
One day, we may be allowed to DNA test the bones that were discovered in the Tower in 1674. Should they be identified as those of the Princes, we will at least be sure that they died in the tower in the 1480s.
At the moment, we can’t draw too many conclusions from what we know of the skeletons. But I will say this: the discovery of two skeletons, of children roughly the same age as the Princes in 1483, discovered exactly where Thomas More claimed they were buried, hardly detracts from the argument that the boys met their end that year.
2. The Duke of Buckingham did the deed to frame Richard, or to further his own claim to the throne
To my mind, this is the best alternative theory. It’s certainly peculiar that Buckingham had been Richard’s staunchest supporter until he – somewhat suddenly – decided to spearhead a rebellion. It may have been him that spread the rumours that the Princes were dead. But could he have killed them?
Some say that given his closeness to Richard, he was the only person that could have gained access. I have some sympathy with that. But even in this scenario, the King would have found out pretty sharpish. Surely when he finally got his hands on the Duke, he would have publicly accused him. It would have been the perfect solution for Richard. His rivals would have been eliminated. He would have been free from blame. He would emerge as both legitimate King and grieving Uncle.
3. Seeing an opportunity for her son, Margaret Beaufort had the Princes done away with in 1483
This theory is popular on social media but not entertained by most historians. I’ve blogged about why I think it has little weight elsewhere.
Fundamentally, however much the Countess of Richmond was ambitious for her son, she wouldn’t have had access to the Princes in the Tower. They were guarded by Richard’s men and she had nothing to bribe them with which was more attractive than the rewards offered by service to the King.
4. Henry VII, after his victory at Bosworth, had the Princes murdered
The first Tudor King has regularly been named as an alternative suspect. But there are problems with this. Firstly – and I refer readers to arguments earlier in the article – it relies on the Princes being alive until 1485, something which as I have demonstrated, seems unlikely.
And what about Henry’s reaction to the pretender Perkin Warbeck? Was he convinced that this man wasn’t truly Richard, Duke of York? Some historians believe there was doubt in his mind. A murderer would know the boys were dead. Henry may not have enjoyed that confidence.
5. The boys died of natural causes
Edward V was being visited by a physician while in the Tower (before Richard removed his attendants). Forensic investigations of the skeletons have shown some problems with the elder child’s jaw. I’ve never known anyone die of jaw ache, although it could have been a symptom of something more serious.
But even if the elder boy had died, isn’t it a bit too convenient to think the younger had followed suit? Had this gift been handed to Richard, surely he would have made use of it.
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In a court of law, it would be unfair to convict someone by process of elimination. The fact that these scenarios are unlikely to have played out, doesn’t make Richard guilty.
DNA testing of the bones may be able to confirm in the boys died in the tower. But even that won’t tell us who killed them. The truth is, we will never know for sure.
But as we begin to scrutinise all the alternative theories, we start to see their limits. While recognising that we cannot be 100% certain, the finger of suspicion inevitable points again toward the man who took both Prince’s into custody, placed them in a high-security prison and, despite damaging rumours of their murder, never produced the boys to counter them.
That man is Richard III.
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The mystery surrounding the fate and probable murder of the Princes in the Tower has preoccupied historians for over 500 years. Rumours that they had been put to death on the orders of their uncle, the newly anointed Richard III, destabilised his reign and ultimately contributed to his brutal end on Bosworth Field.
This is not the place to re-run those arguments. I have blogged about them separately.
Today, we look at a different question. When Richard allowed the boys to be declared illegitimate and took the throne for himself, was he acting out of ruthless self-interest? Or did he have genuine grounds to believe that his nephews were not the lawfully begotten children of his brother, Edward IV?
According to supporters of Richard III, Edward V and his brother, Richard, Duke of York were illegitimate. Their parents had never been lawfully married. Before marrying their mother, Elizabeth Wydeville, Edward IV had pre-contracted himself (a kind of informal, but legally binding, marriage) to Lady Eleanor Talbot, daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury.
This question is separate from the debate around whether Richard had his nephews put to death. It is quite possible to believe that he seized the throne illegally, but never took it upon himself to eliminate the Princes. Some historians, conversely, believe that he was within his rights to declare himself King, but still decided to eliminate rival blood.
Nevertheless, our understanding of this question frames the tone for the rest of the debate. Those that view him as a reluctant King, dragged to power for the good of the nation are less likely to deem him capable of child murder. Historians that judge he usurped the right of the nephews he should have protected, are more prepared to recognise his ruthless streak.
But this question must be looked at in isolation. Each of the arguments should be assessed on their own merits. Doing so, has led me to a clear conclusion: that there is every reason to believe the pre-contract story is a complete invention. Here’s just four of them.
1.The convenience of the timing
The story emerged at a very convenient time. Why had no one mentioned it in 1464 when Edward and Elizabeth married? It is understandable that no one would have challenged Edward at the height of his power. But at the time of his controversial marriage there were many people – who were effectively just as powerful as him – who were shocked and appalled. They would have paid handsomely for any information to nullify the Wydeville marriage. The fact that none came forward suggests none existed.
2. Richard and his supporters tried other ways of discrediting the Princes first
It is clear from the contemporary writings of Dominic Mancini that this was not even Richard’s plan A. He and his supporters first put it about that Edward IV himself was illegitimate – the result of their mother’s adultery. They also argued that Edward’s marriage to Elizabeth Wydeville had been invalid because of its secretive and lustful beginnings. It was a case of throwing around a few stories and seeing what stuck.
3. If Richard had really believed it, he would have had it tried in an ecclesiastical court
Richard couldn’t have truly believed the pre-contract story. If he had, why on earth did he not pass it on to an ecclesiastical court who would have investigated the matter? They were the only ones that had the power to do so.
He certainly had the illegitimacy of the marriage proclaimed in Parliament; but Parliament had no jurisdiction on such matters. Some have claimed that the universal support Richard received from the council is evidence that the tale was believed. But, through the execution of Hastings (and later of Vaughn, Grey and Rivers) without trial, Richard had made it clear to everyone exactly what happened when people opposed him.
4. If it were true, Edward IV would obviously have known about it. Wouldn’t he have taken greater steps to protect his heirs from those ‘in the know’?
The continental writer, Philippe de Commines, claimed that Edward IV’s pre-contract to Talbot was witnessed by Bishop Stillington. The prelate supplied the information to Richard and had previously made it known to George, Duke of Clarence, the ill-fated brother of the two Yorkist Kings.
Supporters of this theory point to a possible association between Stillington and Clarence. They highlight the fact that the Bishop spent a few weeks in prison around the time of Clarence’s execution. But would the ruthless Edward IV really have killed his own brother but let Stillington, the man with the supposed knowledge to destroy his dynasty, off with a warning? Suggestive as the string of circumstances might be, it simply doesn’t stack up.
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Richard and his supporters believed he should be King. Perhaps some of his reasons were noble. In reality, I suspect it was just the best reaction they could make to the fast-moving events of 1483. Once they had decided that Richard’s kingship was the best possible outcome, a legal pre-text had to be found.
Discrediting Edward IV’s legitimacy was tried. Critiquing the – perfectly legal – way the Wydeville wedding took place was attempted. But ultimately neither could be substantiated.
The pre-contract story had a hint of credibility. Edward IV’s licentiousness was well known. With all the parties dead, it could never be disproved. In other words, the shoe seemed to fit.
It was a cunning and shrewd invention. But it simply doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. As the validity of the pre-contract story crumbles around us, we have no option but to conclude that Richard seized the throne illegally.
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In 1509, England was on the verge of a golden era. A beautiful, pious and learned 17-year-old prince had just ascended the throne. It was going to be an age of unparalleled splendour.
Or so they thought.
By the time he went to meet his maker 38 years later, this prince of promise had beheaded two wives, executed the remnants of Plantagenet blood and torn apart the religious foundations of a nation.
What could possibly have gone so wrong?
According to countless mainstream media articles, the answer is simple. Henry VIII sustained a traumatic brain injury following a fall from his horse in 1536. Following that, his personality changed forever. He became an erratic and paranoid tyrant. The likes of Anne Boleyn and Thomas Cromwell paid the price.
But there’s a number of problems with this theory. Here is just four of them.
It’s often quoted as a fact that Henry was out cold for two hours following the fall from his horse. But this information comes from a man not living in England. Dr Ortiz, the source who claimed that Henry was without speech for two hours, resided in Rome and seems to have picked up the gossip third hand from a French ambassador. As Alison Weir points out, continental gossip would later get the facts of Anne Boleyn’s arrest spectacularly wrong.
A source based in England, however, records the event very differently. Chapuy, the Imperial ambassador, based in Henry VIII’s court, writes that:
“On the eve of the Conversion of St. Paul, the King being mounted on a great horse to run at the lists, both fell so heavily that everyone thought it a miracle he was not killed, but he sustained no injury.”
The thrust of Chapuy’s account is confirmed by the English chronicler, Charles Wriothesley. In these versions it appears as if both Henry and the horse took a dramatic tumble. Despite the force with which they fell however, the King emerged unscathed. He might not even have hit his head.
The matter gets complicated further. On 29th January – five days after Henry’s fall – Anne Boleyn miscarried a child. In her distress, she blamed her uncle the duke of Norfolk. The Duke, Anne claimed, alarmed and distressed her when he reported the news of Henry’s accident. But Chapuy reacted to this with disbelief. The Duke of Norfolk had told her calmly. And besides, there had been nothing to worry about.
Could Anne’s tragic miscarriage really have had anything to do with the incident? Sadly, she had miscarried before. By this stage, Anne knew how much she needed a son. It is understandable that in her grief and fear, she cast the net around for someone else to blame.
By the time this story, accompanied by the news of Anne’s miscarriage, had weaved its way to the continent, Chinese Whispers had played their part. The story had morphed into the dramatic version that is so often quoted on social media.
The historian must give credibility to Chapuy’s account. He would have spoken directly to eyewitnesses. Had Henry been out cold for two hours, or been incapable of speech, it beggars belief that the Imperial ambassador would not have reported such a dramatic occasion accurately back to his masters. Had Henry’s life hung in the balance, the Imperial authorities would have wanted every detail. His death in 1536 would almost certainly have triggered a war of succession between the supporters of his two daughters, the Lady Mary and Princess Elizabeth. Given that Mary was the emperor’s first cousin, Charles V would have had a vested interest in the outcome of that skirmish. He may well have chosen to intervene.
Had there been the possibility of Henry’s death, Chapuy would have been all over it like a rash. He was not one to tone down sensational details.
2. There was no sudden change in Henry’s behaviour
After Henry’s fall, he certainly perpetrated some great travesties. Anne Boleyn was executed. Thomas Cromwell would follow a similar fate. Even Henry’s aged-cousin, Margaret Pole would meet her end at the scaffold.
But are these tragedies so different to the ones that occurred prior to the supposed ‘brain injury’? Elizabeth Barton, the Nun of Kent was executed in 1534. Henry’s one-time friend Thomas More met his end in 1535 as did Bishop Fisher, the holy man who had been a friend and confidant to Henry’s grandmother, Margaret Beaufort. Was his treatment of Cromwell so different to that of the other minister he had been so reliant on, Cardinal Wolsey?
Throughout the 1520s, we see a gradual progression in Henry’s behaviour. The renaissance prince of earlier years had certainly gone by 1536. But he had been fading away for years. Henry’s transition to ‘tyrant’ is better understood by the frustration he felt at being denied what he really wanted – the woman he loved and the son he believed she could give him.
It is also possible to detect the roots of a tyrannical personality in the very early years of Henry’s reign. Let’s not forget the fate of his father’s advisors, Empson and Dudley, who were destined for death the moment Henry ascended.
3. The theory makes Henry an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ style monarch
Tudor monarchs were immensely powerful. But they couldn’t just shout ‘off with her head’ and expect the axe to fall straight away.
Someone didn’t lose their life because an erratic and brain-damaged Henry exploded with rage at them. For ‘justice’ to be delivered, due legal processes had to be followed.
As the trial of Anne Boleyn demonstrated, proceedings could be heavily rigged. Torture may have been used to extract Smeaton’s confession and much of the evidence against her was clearly engineered. There can be no pretence that the justice system was an independent, democratic institution. But processes were in place and even the king had to follow them. History had shown just how dangerous it could be for a King that chose to act outside the parameters of the body politic of the day. Richard II and Edward II had lost their crowns by doing so.
When we link the tragedies of Henry’s reign to his personality alone, we risk misunderstanding the limits and parameters of Tudor kingship.
4. The argument risks ignoring the politics of Henry’s court
When we blame brutal executions on a brain injury, we fail to appreciate the power dynamics of Henry’s court.
Those that perished during or after 1536 did not die just because they lost Henry’s favour. They died because they had enemies.
Henry’s court was factional. Major power brokers on both sides, blessed with wits, influence and resources, were occasionally able to outmanoeuvre their enemies. Anne’s miscarriages and behaviour made her vulnerable. But it was Cromwell that went for her. Cromwell, in turn, miscalculated with the Cleves marriage. But it was the conservative faction that outmanoeuvred him. When Katheryn Howard showed a lapse in judgement, it was the reformists that ensured the evidence was mounted.
That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a big deal if you lost Henry’ favour and protection. People who rode high in his esteem were untouchable. But falling from his favour did not instantly put your life in jeopardy. Let’s not forget how worried Henry was that he might not be able to escape the Cleves marriage. He was so grateful to Anna for cooperating. He couldn’t have just chopped her head off. International politics aside, what did he possibly have on her?
The politics of Henry’s reign is rich. It’s an intellectual joy to try and unpick and understand it. But when we attribute the drama of his later years to an erratic, brain-damaged personality, we risk missing the substantial political issues that lurked beneath the surface.
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None of this means that Henry’s personality didn’t change as he got older. It would be strange if it didn’t. And of course, declining health undoubtedly played a part. The wounds on his leg caused him great pain and he may have suffered from high blood pressure and type 2 diabetes.
But we must move away from this notion that he changed drastically in 1536. We have to stop looking for a brain injury that resulted from a blow to the head that might not even have happened. Such a view does not stand up to scrutiny. But more importantly than that, it diminishes our understanding of the true development of Henry’s character. It distracts us from appreciating the politics of the Henrican court. It might give us an easy and sensational answer; but it deprives us of the real adventure that delving into the politics of Henry’s reign can take us on.
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In 1542, a distraught Henry VIII decided to have the head of the woman who had broken his heart.
There was just one problem. It wasn’t actually clear what crime the Queen, Katheryn Howard had committed. She had certainly been inappropriate with the young courtier, Thomas Culpeper. But it seems that there was not sufficient evidence to condemn her for adultery.
In an act of legal reimagination, it was decided that Katheryn’s misconduct before her marriage to Henry was worthy of censure. Her behaviour after her nuptials only served to illustrate that she was no longer worthy of her life.
But was she the only Queen of Henry VIII’s to be guilty of a dalliance prior to marriage? Is it possible that none of his wives came to Henry’s marital bed untouched by man?
Let’s take them one by one.
Katherine of Aragon
Did Katherine of Aragon consummate her first marriage to Henry’s brother, Arthur. The issue would sit at the heart of Henry’s attempt to divorce Katherine and be joined to Anne Boleyn.
I’ve covered this ground elsewhere, so won’t go over it again. We will never know the truth, but I’m inclined to believe Katherine. She swore an oath that she had come to Henry’s bed a maid and I don’t think she would have engendered her immortal soul by lying.
Anne Boleyn
Henry’s second wife has gone down in history as the woman who made the King wait seven years before surrendering her affections. But was Henry her first sexual experience?
After his nuptials to Anne, Henry grew rapidly disappointed. He was heard complaining that she had been ‘corrupted’ while living in the French court. It’s not clear what this meant but it he was probably suggesting that she had acquired some kind of sexual technique from the continent.
There is also the question of Henry Percy. In 1522, Anne fell in love with the future Earl of Northumberland and the couple hoped to wed. Cardinal Wolsey – who had plans to settle a family feud by marrying Anne to the Irish Earl of Ormonde – put a stop to the match. However, if the couple believed they had agreed a pre-contract , sleeping together would have been the way to ‘seal the deal.’ These two factors would make them legally married and there was, strictly speaking, nothing improper about forming a union that way. Although such a clandestine approach was not encouraged among the high nobility.
For what it’s worth, I don’t think Anne would have been so carefree. She was a master of strategy and had she believed her and Percy were to spend their lives together, she would not have wanted there to be a question mark around the legitimacy of any children.
Jane Seymour
We don’t know much about Queen Jane’s character. But we do know that Henry chose her because she was the opposite of Anne. While Anne was sensual and alluring, Jane was demure and gentle.
It seems unlikely that Jane knew the touch of man before Henry came along. She certainly did not have a reputation for any kind of light behaviour. But did Henry and Jane wait until they had officially tied the knot before becoming physically intimate?
Henry and Jane married with alarming haste after Anne’s execution. This might well have been Henry’s way of showing the world he had moved on after the humiliation of being cuckolded. Or, he may simply have burned with desire for Jane.
However, it could also be that they were in such a rush because Jane was pregnant. Some think she may have miscarried one child before conceiving Edward. Could it be that another was sadly lost in the early weeks of their marriage?
Anne of Cleves
As many Royal History Geeks know, there’s a famous scene where Anne’s ladies probed the Queen on the nature of her bedroom antics. She innocently replied that the King kissed her every night and fell asleep beside her. Was that not enough, she wide-eyed wondered, to bring a child into the world?
It’s a sweet story. But I don’t buy it. Anne was 24 when she came to England. Would her mother really have sent her into the lion’s den without a word in her ear? Her parents would have known Henry was expecting sex. I cannot believe they would let her navigate this fundamental frontier entirely alone.
Was she as innocent as history remembers? Henry certainly didn’t think so. As he tried to find a way out of their marriage, he mentions multiple times that, having inspected Anne’s body, he believed her to be no maid.
Perhaps we shouldn’t take Henry too seriously. But he was experienced with women. The notion that Anne may have given birth to a son as a teenager forms the sub-plot of Alison Weir’s excellent novel on the Cleves Princess. The books is fiction and the author is clear that were she penning a factual biography, she would have to tread more carefully. But Henry’s comments are certainly intriguing.
Katheryn Howard
Let’s not tarry here for long. We know that Katheryn was not a virgin when she married the King. She seemed to know how to lie with a man without getting pregnant, which might suggest she never surrendered herself fully to Francis Dereham. But it’s more likely that they used some form of contraception.
Katherine Parr
Henry’s final wife is the only one that everyone knew was not a virgin at the time of the marriage – and quite legitimately so. She had been married twice before.
But it’s possible that she was not particularly sexually experienced. Her first husband had been young and sickly. Her second, older and often unwell. There is no record of her ever falling pregnant by either of them nor by Henry. Yet, when she married the virile Thomas Seymour, she was with child almost straight way.
Could it be that her sex life only really got going with husband number four?
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We Royal History Geeks are a nosy bunch, aren’t we? Normally, what happens between a couple on their wedding night stays pretty private. Even a close friend might think twice before prying into the details.
For Katherine of Aragon and Arthur, Prince of Wales, however, no such privacy can be afforded. The subject of whether their teenage marriage was consummated would emerge at the centre of King Henry VIII’s great matter – his attempt to divorce his first wife and be wed to Anne Boleyn.
Arthur was Henry’s older brother. As Arthur’s widow, Katherine was technically Henry’s sister under church law. But the Pope had dispensed with this obstacle – as Popes often did. The couple was free to marry.
But an anxious Henry later grew doubtful of the Pope’s right to wave away this important consideration. The book of Leviticus declared that if a man took his brother’s wife he would be childless. Given his lack of son, these words struck a chord with the King. What right did the church have to overturn scripture?
Katherine and her supporters argued that the Pope’s dispensation was largely unnecessary. She swore that her marriage to Henry’s brother had never been consummated. Katherine and Arthur had never truly been husband and wife. Yet Henry grew convinced that his wife had not been a maid when she came to him. Neither was prepared to back down.
We will never know the truth. Only two people know for sure what happened during that short marriage. They have both been dead for half a millennium. But if I were a betting man, my money would be on Katherine. Here’s six reasons why.
1.Katherine stood fast even as she prepared to meet her maker
Religious belief was paramount in Tudor England. That doesn’t mean we should ascribe spiritual purity to everyone indiscriminately. But Katherine was a devout woman and she swore that she and Arthur had never been truly man and wife. She maintained this stance until the end of her days – right up to the point when she was going to meet her maker. If fear of judgement did not cause her to confess, she likely had nothing to retract.
2. Henry’s concerns were suspect and hypocritical
I’m one of the few who thinks some of Henry’s concerns about his marriage were genuine. He probably doubted his marriage to Katherine before Anne Boleyn came along.
Nevertheless, Henry was a hypocrite. He argued that Katherine and Arthur had become one, making Katherine his sister under canon law and their marriage incestuous. The Pope, he said, was wrong to grant dispensations in such circumstances. Yet, at the same time, Henry was applying to the Pope for dispensation to marry Anne Boleyn. She was in the same forbidden degree of affinity to him as Katherine was. Henry had slept with her sister, Mary.
There must have been limits to how far Henry’s marriage to Katherine was genuinely plaguing his conscience.
3. Katherine publicly challenged Henry to admit he knew the truth
At a trial to determine the legality of her wedding, Katherine gave the performance of a lifetime. Kneeling before Henry, she delivered an impassioned defence of their union. Included within this monologue was the following pointed phrase:
“And when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience.”
Katherine is implying that Henry knew full well that it was he, not Arthur, that took her virginity. Could there have been physical evidence of such on their wedding night? If Katherine was lying, this was a bold move.
4. Arthur was probably sickly
Some argue that Arthur – who was probably born premature – had always been a sickly lad. There is no real evidence for that.
However, according to testimony by Spanish servants, Arthur was not well at the time he and Katherine married. This could explain a lack of sexual congress. It might also explain why Katherine recovered from illness and why her fragile husband did not.
Clearly this testimony must be treated with caution. These witnesses were speaking at a trial convened in Spain and were saying things that the local authorities wanted to hear. Nevertheless, they were talking about events that took place 30 years before and their accounts fit together well. They would have had little chance to compare notes.
5. Newsflash: teenage boys lie about sex
Henry had witnesses too. Servants of Arthur reported that after his wedding night he had been heard bragging that ‘marriage was thirsty work.’ One servant, Sir Anthony Willoughby, was instructed to bring the young Prince a cup of ale for he had been ‘this night in the midst of Spain.’ The implication was clear. Arthur had sealed the deal.
As with witnesses that spoke up in Katherine’s defence, these men were not impartial. It was in their interest to say things that Henry VIII wanted to hear. But even if their testimony was honest, can we really be confident that Arthur’s youthful brags contained the truth? He would hardly be the only teenage boy in history to brag about a sexual encounter which had, strictly speaking, never happened. Were he ill – and feeling insecure – at the time, might he have felt extra pressure to overcompensate?
6. Teenage sex was not always encouraged in Tudor England
Couples married young. But did they always take things to the next level? We know that Elizabeth or York and Margaret Beaufort intervened to ensure that Arthur’s sister, Princess Margaret was not introduced to sex too earlier in the run up to her marriage to the King of Scots. There’s no suggestion that they did the same for Katherine and Arthur. But it might suggest that there was a hesitance about teenage sex, even following marriage.
Other possible examples can be found. Katherine Parr married a teenage boy when she was young. She did not fall pregnant. This could suggest that sex was delayed. Though he, like Arthur, was probably sickly.
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Let me repeat: we will never know for sure. I appreciate that there are counterpoints to all these arguments. Perhaps Katherine had falsely convinced herself that nothing happened. Maybe she decided to double done and stick to her guns. The Spanish witnesses could have been lying. Arthur’s brags may have been based on the truth.
Ultimately – and at risk of oversimplification – it comes down to a simple question. Whose honesty do you trust more: Henry VIII or Katherine of Aragon? On this criterion, I am far more minded to give the benefit of the doubt to Katherine the Queen.
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It was an immense privilege to sit down (over zoom) with historian and novelist, Alison Weir.
Alison is responsible for some of the best researched ‘narrative history’ on the Tudor and Plantagenet periods. She has written novels as well as history books.
At the time of the interview, Alison had just released her 5th book in the ‘Six Tudor Queens’ fictional series: Katherine Howard, the Tainted Queen (Scandalous Queen in the USA).
Please visit Alison’s website and consider buying her books from a local bookstore or online. http://alisonweir.org.uk/
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About seven years ago I started properly thinking about who killed the Princes in the Tower. I had no bias toward or against any candidate. But I quickly decided that Richard was the most likely perpetrator.
Four years ago I started blogging about my obsession and engaging with other Royal History Geeks online. I learnt how many people held Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII, responsible for the murder of Edward V and his brother, Richard, Duke of York. The Tudor matriarch had never emerged as a meaningful candidate in the books and primary sources I had studied. I was soon to learn that social media follows a different set of rules to scholars.
When it comes to history, we are all entitled to our own opinions. But are we entitled to our own facts? The people we are talking about really lived. Should we make claims about their misbehaviour without robust evidence? We surely wouldn’t if these were people we actually knew.
When it comes to historical fiction, I understand that license must be taken. History is about recognising different perspectives and understanding motivations in their context. Stories must feature heroes and villains. But where things have to be invented in order to make these narratives flow, authors should be clear about what they have done.
There are a host of reasons why a link between Margaret Beaufort and the death of the Princes in the Tower should be discounted. Here are just six of them.
Before we go any further, we have to acknowledge the level of security around the Princes after Richard got his hands on both of them. He had the Princes in a high-security prison within the Tower of London. This claim is relatively uncontroversial. We can be clear on it without relying on the Tudor sources which many find so sinister.
Mancini, the Italian writer visiting London, tells us that “all the attendants who had waited upon the King [Edward V] were debarred access to him. He and his brother were withdrawn into the inner departments of the Tower proper, and day by day began to be seen more rarely behind the bars and windows, till at length they ceased to appear altogether.”
The Croyland Chronicle recounts that the Princes were put in the custody of “certain persons appointed to that purpose.” They would have been men Richard trusted greatly.
Assuming that the boys died in 1483, how would Margaret or an agent acting on her behalf have gained access to them?
2. Her husband didn’t have access
Margaret is often thought to have a co-conspirator in the form of her husband, Thomas, Lord Stanley. Proponents of this theory point out that he was the Constable of England. Surely that position would have helped him get near to the boys, wouldn’t it?
Stanley, however, was not appointed Constable of England until after the Princes were probably dead. And even if they were still alive, there is nothing to suggest that this office would have granted him proximity to them. As we have seen, the boys were not simply roaming around the tower. They had been withdrawn to an inner apartment and guarded by men close to Richard.
Stanley was not part of Richard’s inner circle. While he had been appointed to high office, this reflects that Richard needed to ensure he kept a major regional power broker on side as his reign became fractious. Bestowing such an office did not necessarily convey trust. For example, George Duke of Clarence held the similar office of Lord High Steward during a time that he was at loggerheads with his brother, Edward IV.
3. Margaret had nothing to offer Richard’s guards
No one’s loyalty can be guaranteed. It is sometimes said that, while the Princes were guarded by Richard’s most trusted men, perhaps Margaret could have bribed them. She was, after all, rather wealthy.
I’ve written elsewhere about the wealth of Margaret Beaufort. It was certainly substantial. But it was not enough to make her a major power broker of the realm. And what could she possibly have offered these men which would have been superior to the benefits that service to the king could bring? Besides, these men knew that if they let anything happen to the king’s nephews, under the orders of anyone but Richard, they would answer for it with their heads.
4. Richard never accused Margaret or Stanley of it
In the highly unlikely event that Margaret had gained access to the Princes and had them killed, Richard would have found out about it straight away. Wouldn’t this have been a dream come true for the king? His biggest rivals would have been eliminated. Yet, there wouldn’t have been a trace of blood on his hands. He could pin the blame on Margaret and Stanley.
5. It’s not clear that Margaret even had a motive
Once it was believed the Princes were dead, those loyal to Edward IV searched for a new champion. Margaret’s son, Henry Tudor was the man they eventually turned their attention to – on the condition that he would marry Elizabeth of York, sister of the Princes. But could such an eventuality really have been predicted? People could just have easily turned to the young earl of Warwick, the Duke of Buckingham or anyone who was free to marry Elizabeth.
To believe that Margaret could have masterminded such as set of circumstances credits her with a greater gift of prophecy than is realistic.
6. After 1485, it wouldn’t have been Margaret giving the orders
Some speculate that when Henry VII arrived in England, he found the boys in the tower and had them done away with. Was it Margaret that was whispering in his ear and persuading him to do so?
It is highly unlikely that the Princes were still alive in 1485. Had they been, surely Richard would have produced them. Doing so would split the coalition of Lancastrian remnants and Yorkist dissidents that had formed against him. However, if they had survived, and their death was ordered by Henry VII, it seems odd to lay the blame for this at Margaret’s door. Henry would have been the one to give the orders.
It is true that Henry trusted the advice of his mother. This may have been particularly the case in the early weeks of his reign as there were few in England he could trust. But to suggests that he was some kind of puppet King that allowed anyone else to pull the strings misunderstands his entire approach to kingship. Besides, even if killing the Princes was Margaret’s idea, it would have been Henry that gave the order.
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