“I think he was a little bit nuts, and convinced himself that she cheated on him, eventhough, the whole thing was impossible.”
Oh, I certainly agree that Henry was a bit nuts (I think most monarchs were – that much power gets to you). I don’t think he convinced himself that she cheated on him though – in fact, I think he knew damn well that the allegations were bogus. Some of the charges were a physically impossibility – eg when Anne was recovering from childbirth and still in seclusion, so no man other than Henry or a doctor or maybe a priest would have been allowed near her. It’s interesting to contrast his behaviour in the lead up to Anne’s execution with that when the allegations against Catherine Howard came out. Henry was furious and absolutely *distraught* when Cromwell went to him with the allegations against Catherine. Francis Dereham was subjected to the full, horrendous traitor’s death; Thomas Culpeper escaped that because of his rank, but both were tortured. It was as a result of this that adultery in a queen was criminalised as a treasonable offence – adultery was not even a secular crime (but an ecclesiastical one) at the time of Anne’s death, which is why they had to manufacture the ridiculous allegation that she plotted to murder Henry with her co-accused (as if – her position depended on Henry being alive!).

Contrast this with Henry’s behaviour with Anne – Chapuys apparently commented something along the lines that he was the happiest cuckold he’d ever seen (can’t remember the exact words). He cheerfully courted Jane Seymour and disported himself with the ladies of the court. Not the behaviour of a man who has found out and believes that his wife – whom he once loved – has slept with five men including her brother. Mark Smeaton, of whom Henry had been quite fond, was treated the same as the other men and given a more merciful death (interesting – Dereham arguably outranked Smeaton, but was given no mercy). Further – and I hope someone will correct me if I’m wrong – I remember reading somewhere that the men’s heads were not displayed on London Bridge, which was usual for executed “traitors” whereas Dereham’s and Culpeper’s were (I could be wrong though).

Recently on Facebook I saw a bizarre comment – from a poster who openly admitted that she deliberately was “talking outside the era” and looking at Anne as if she lived today – that Anne had “options” and therefore was “greedy” for accepting Henry’s suit. Options like _what_? Go into a convent? Get herself a job? Jump into bed with him anyway, since the sixteenth century was obviously so sexually permissive and laid back, with no double standards … oh wait … As soon as the King telegraphed his interest in Anne, as if any eligible unmarried man of her class was going to present himself as another “option” – just as Thomas Seymour retreated once Henry set his sights on Catherine Parr.

She clearly was not interested initially, especially as she would have known about her sister’s liaison with him, and she didn’t want to go down the same path – the transient benefits of being a King’s mistress were not worth the damage to her reputation, and were far outweighed by the lifetime security of a good marriage. Honestly, what do people like the “Anne was greedy” person expect her to have done? Is she seriously expected to have said “no” to a man with absolute power? In fact, she did say no to start with – he just persisted. He was hardly an easily manipulated jock. The King was offering her the chance of the greatest match of all, was obviously deeply enamoured of her and saw her as a fitting consort – for any woman, in an era where the objective was to secure the best marriage possible, that’s an offer one couldn’t refuse. When a man who literally has the power of life and death over his subjects and is telling you that a) his marriage was invalid and therefore to all intents and purposes (once the technical details are sorted out) is single and b) he is determined to marry YOU, as if anyone’s going to say, “Sorry, I’d rather stay just friends.” Especially since she was already in her early to late 20s (depending on which birthdate you accept) and was getting on a bit by contemporary standards – she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to delay much longer and risk totally missing out on a decent match. The fact that it became partly a love match – Anne came to genuinely care for Henry – was a bonus. Also, when someone is showering you with gifts and compliments and attention, it is very seductive, and it’s easy to fall for someone doing that; one of my friends is now married to a guy who did just that – she wasn’t mad keen on him initially, and it was interesting to see how all of a quickly she became besotted with him after the $1000 earrings appeared (it came across as really creepy to outsiders, actually). Lis’s comment above is absolutely spot on.

I’ve no doubt once it seemed a realistic prospect, Anne certainly wanted to become queen. Once she achieved that goal, she filled the role admirably, I think. It’s interesting to note how many qualities she and Katharine of Aragon shared – intelligence, political ability, an interest in the arts and education, strong religious views, compassion and philanthropy, and a very strong concept of queenship.

This is not to downplay the dreadful way Katharine of Aragon was treated, but in a sense, Anne was put in an impossible position, where she was damned either way: derided as a “whore” either for sleeping with the King, or for not doing so. She was acutely aware of this and therefore made the best of it. Anne was neither a “schemer”, but nor was she a passive victim either.

I wonder how much of the opprobrium directed against her stemmed from jealousy and/or resentment that she was not “royal” – if Wolsey say had successfully negotiated a match with a European princess to replace Katharine once Henry made his views on the validity of his marriage known (this had been done plenty of times by medieval kings and nobles – putting one wife aside either because she was “barren” or because politics demanded it, getting an annulment and then marrying another), would that princess have been the victim of such vitriol – then and now? I doubt it.

Thanks for a really fascinating discussion.

What would *you* do?

Honestly, it’s easy to see how Anne could have fallen in love with Henry and the idea of marriage to him.

I think it’s easy to say she should have kept firm, never fallen in love with him and given him the brush off. But as we know by looking around, plenty of people are less than saintly and find themselves in similar situations.

Lets not forget that Anne more agreed that Henry’s previous marriage should be null and void. I’m pretty sure Henry assured her Catherine was lying, that he was in the right, and Anne believed it. After all, he had assured her it would be a swift separation.

It turned out to be an extremely long, but after so many years had passed what was Anne supposed to do? She could desist, and go live in some corner of England, probably never to be married after the three-ring circus that had become her life. Or she could keep her faith that Henry would triumph, that they would be married.

Thanks for the corrections

To gain a better understanding of the situation, we must remember that Jane wasn’t at all the type of girl who would attract Henry’s physical attentions. He wasn’t scouting for a wife when he first became attracted to Jane, he was looking for sport. Much like Anne, he only got the idea after he was refused. And just as with Catherine, before he met Jane, it is likely Henry was already getting the idea to get rid of Anne. Henry seems to have the ideas first, but get the initiative when he has a replacement later. The same nearly happened to Katherine Parr when Lady Willoughby presented a viable option, but Katherine was able to save herself and Henry wasn’t nearly as dedicated to swapping Queens as he once was.

Before Jane, Henry had always been with beautiful and vivacious women. Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Mary Shelton. These women all stepped outside the usual roles of the submissive woman. Katherine of Aragon was lively and fun before she become overly religious. Anne…well…was Anne. Mary Shelton was a member of a poetry group involving Thomas Wyatt, it is likely that she was creative and exciting.

And then there is Jane. Jane was plainfaced, quiet, and dowdy. How on Earth did the King choose her? It is likely that he was persuaded in much the same way Louis XIV was with Madame de Maintenon (who was very similar to Jane.) Both women were calm and religious and offered an outlet for the King to vent his frustrations.

Henry probably had the chance to talk to her while visiting Anne’s rooms. It must have taken time for the interest to grow, probably starting before his affair with Mary Shelton. I can’t really see Henry, who was fanatic about beauty, merely being duped by a girl who was never once described as lovely. Just as he loved Anne, I have to believe he loved Jane.

Naturally, we can never know, but Jane doesn’t seem intelligent or crafty enough to have the skills necessary to ensnare the King. He may be a man, but he was not oversexed like Francois of France. He was in search of the perfect woman, as Kelly Hart would say. Henry was an intelligent man who was not easily fooled. Let’s give a bit of credit. He lived at court all of his life, he watched courtiers try to pull one over on each other. He would be able to spot similar games.

Henry most likely recognized the same game that Anne played from Jane. But what if it wasn’t a game, like Anne’s wasn’t? What if Jane really was intent on saving her modesty? It’s all she really had. She was a spinster, unattractive, from a family that didn’t have much to offer by way of dowry. Becoming a mistress would be a lucrative position. Henry had given Bessie a marriage shortly after his affair with her and Mary Shelton was engaged to Henry Norris after her affair with the King. It would probably the only chance Jane would have for a marriage.

Jane can easily be accused of playing a game, but it is worth considering that maybe she didn’t. I am not claiming she is a saint at all. I hate one sided theories about the wives’ personalities, such as Anne of Cleves being ugly, Katherine of Aragon as a saint, and Katherine Howard the whore. I believe each woman had flaws and virtues. But I think that these situations need more than one perspective. It isn’t one thought that goes into such moments, but multiple thoughts. Doubt, hope, certainty.

Even if Jane played the King, there was no way she could ever have known that he would ACTUALLY execute Anne. No Queen had really ever been executed before. Just like Anne, Jane could have believed Anne would become a nun. By the time it became clear that the King was intent on executing her, Jane would be powerless to stop him. She could not even stop him from executing the Pilgramage of Grace rebels. How on earth could she change his mind about Anne? And would anyone desire her to? Would it be safe to?

Jane, just as much as Anne, deserves some compassion. Both women died long before their time and were married to a difficult man.