Once you have chosen a course, you should not apologise for it. God knows, I mean nothing but good to our master the king. I am bound to obey and serve. And if you watch me closely you will see me do it.’
When Cromwell asks Wriothesley to ‘drink my health’, he is not just inviting us to make a toast – we are seeing the celebration of a new era, a new queen, new court favourites, many of whom owe their positions to him.
AFTER THE EXECUTION
In the opening scene of The Mirror and the Light Anne Boleyn’s head lies on the scaffold, a few feet from her bloodied, exposed neck. George and his co-accused have been interred in the chapel in the Tower of London. Having symbolically devoured his enemies, Cromwell fancies a second breakfast.
Historians have long debated the reasons why Cromwell moved so decisively against Anne as, for so many years, they had been regarded as allies. However, apart from a mutual interest in religious reform, there is no evidence that they were ever close. Mantel’s Anne may have laughingly called Cromwell ‘her man’, but historically Anne was not responsible for any of Cromwell’s favours or advancement, nor did she promote any of his friends, family members or close associates. Cromwell may have kept his distance because, as his biographer Diarmaid MacCulloch writes, he could neither forget nor forgive what he believed to be her part in the downfall of his mentor, Cardinal Wolsey. Equally, Anne would have done likewise, for she could never forget that Wolsey was Cromwell’s first master, and therefore Cromwell was not to be entirely trusted.
But, of course, Cromwell did not act alone against Anne – certainly the entire game plan had Henry’s consent – and there were a multitude of circumstances that led to her execution. While Katherine had brought the power and prestige of the Holy Roman Empire to the court of Henry VIII, Anne had brought nothing. It had been a costly gamble for Henry that yielded no reward. Cromwell served Henry, not Anne. This was not a personal betrayal, it was business. Cromwell simply came out on top.
The Mirror and the Light begins where Bring Up the Bodies ends: Cromwell is looking up at the scaffold where Anne had knelt moments before; he turns around and walks away, his son and the Duke of Suffolk alongside him. There are no letters or accounts by Cromwell that might indicate what he truly felt about Anne’s death, but we do have Chapuys’ reports to Charles V. One, in particular, informs Charles that some weeks following Anne’s execution Chapuys had an illuminating conversation with Cromwell, some of which has found its way into The Mirror and the Light:
‘I was not responsible for Anne’s death,’ he says. ‘She herself brought it about, she and her gentlemen.”’
‘But at a time of your choosing.’
The real Chapuy’s reports reveal that Cromwell was quite forthcoming, keen to assure Chapuys that with Anne’s death their diplomatic negotiations would run smoother; he confided that he had masterminded Anne’s downfall, but only because Henry had authorized and commissioned him to prosecute Anne quickly in order to have her taken care of. As Mantel’s Jane Seymour notes with sharp clarity, ‘The king never does an unpleasant thing. Lord Cromwell does it for him.’ There is no historical evidence to indicate that Cromwell ever regretted this entire episode and his role in its conclusion: whereas Mantel’s Cromwell seems haunted by Anne’s execution, and the innocent men executed alongside her.
Henry, however, was determined to erase every memory of her, particularly those he could see. He insisted that the hundreds of carved and painted examples of their intertwined initials be removed from every inch of his domain, just as he had done with the emblems from his previous marriage. Throughout the book, Mantel has Cromwell and others at court notice instances of carvings that have survived the purge; some even exist today, such as the one in the Great Hall at Hampton Court Palace: ‘Shelton!’ the duke yells. ‘You’ve got a HA-HA. Knock it out, man. Do it while the weather’s fine’.
We know that as soon as Henry heard of Anne’s execution, he rushed to be with Jane Seymour and her family. The following day they were betrothed and eleven days later they were married in the Queen’s Closet at Whitehall by Bishop Gardiner, now back in favour with Henry. In fact, much would change: with the Boleyns obliterated, there was a clean sweep of the Privy Chamber and the court, allowing new families to rise to positions of power and influence. The Cromwell family was one of them.
PERSONAL SPHERES
In The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell is at the very height of his power and his life reflects the influence he enjoyed. In July 1536 he succeeded Anne’s father, Thomas Boleyn as Lord Privy Seal, and he is one of the most powerful men at court. At the gates of Austin Friars, crowds of petitioners shout his name in the hope of gaining his attention and having their papers read. His London residence bears witness to the comings and goings of those closest to Cromwell: Rafe, Richard Cromwell and Gregory frequent its halls. Rafe has risen in Henry’s esteem – he has been appointed as Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, perfectly placed to be Cromwell’s eyes and ears in the inner sanctum. The king has become increasingly fond of Rafe, granting him rewards that would continue for the rest of his reign, and would result in Rafe being one of the richest commoners in the country. In The Mirror and the Light, Gregory has grown from the gentle teenager with no sense for Latin to a man whose company is widely sought: ‘From Somerset to Kent, from the midlands to the northern fells, castles and manors compete to entertain him.’ Cromwell’s nephew, Richard, is his uncle’s trusted agent and always at his side. These three young men are a constant presence in the household despite their separate lives and duties. As Mantel’s Cromwell surveys his dynasty, he reflects: ‘he has trained them, encouraged them, written them as versions of himself’.
Another welcome guest at Austin Friars is Thomas Wriothesley (see chapter 3), a frequent addition to the Cromwell household, and Richard Rich, a protégé of Thomas Audley who worked with Cromwell over the years. Throughout the early 1530s, Rich benefitted from his relationship with both Audley and Cromwell as he began to audit monasteries around the country. Rich had also been close to Thomas More as a boy, and yet played a significant role in his trial for treason. Cromwell would have done well to take note of Rich’s flexibility when it came to allegiances.
Cromwell also attempts to connect with his daughter, Janneke, alongside Dorothea, Wolsey’s illegitimate daughter. Janneke remains aloof, whereas Dorothea despises Cromwell, believing he betrayed her father, an accusation which strikes at the very heart of Cromwell’s being. Wolsey, who had been such a reassuring physical and spectral presence in the first two books, is all but silent in The Mirror and the Light, as if Cromwell’s memory of his beloved master has been corrupted and he can no longer conjure him.
Along with the Cromwell supporters, conservative factions who had assisted Cromwell in bringing down Anne and her faction now step onto centre stage as we are introduced to new families, new alliances and new rivalries.
THE SEYMOURS
The Seymours could trace their origins back to the Norman invasion of 1066. Their original name, St Maur, likely hailed from the village of St-Maur-sur-Loire in Touraine. For several centuries they remained small landowners, and apart from the odd knighthood, were not considered to be part of the country gentry.
Fortunes changed with the marriage of Roger Seymour and Matilda or Maud, daughter and sole heir of William Esturmy, sometime in 1405. The Esturmy family had been the wardens of Savernake Forest in Wiltshire since the Norman invasion, an honour which passed down the generations. Savernake remains the only ancient forest in Britain which is still privately owned. The Esturmy family owned a modest estate in the middle of the forest which appears in the Domesday book with the Saxon name ‘Ulfela’. Ulf Hall, Wulfhall or Wolf Hall became the premier estate of the Seymour family.
It was not until the early 16th century that family fortunes improved significantly, with the marriage in 1494 of John Seymour and Margaret (or Margery) Wentworth, first cousin of a familiar – and prolific – generation of Howards, namely Thomas Ho
ward, Duke of Norfolk, his sister Elizabeth, mother of Anne Boleyn, and Edmund, father of Henry’s fifth queen, Catherine Howard.
Wolf Hall is the setting for a pivotal moment in the course of English history when Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn are guests of Sir John Seymour in the last days of the summer progress of 1535. Wolf Hall was a large half-timbered manor surrounded by almost 1300 acres of lush parkland, boasting a long gallery, courtyard, broad chamber, and a chapel, surrounded by three gardens. The family would eventually abandon Wolf Hall for the grander estate of Tottenham House, and by 1571 it had fallen into disrepair.
Our introduction to the Seymours involves a surprisingly salacious bit of gossip, as Anne Boleyn gleefully tells Cromwell of a scandal at Wolf Hall: Sir John Seymour has been having an illicit affair with his son Edward’s wife, Catherine. The theory has endured because it is so diverting, but the evidence is flimsy. 17th-century ecclesiastical author Peter Hely wrote that Edward Seymour had been taught magic while he was in France in 1527, which he used to spy on his wife back in England, catching her with a mysterious gentleman. Another 17th-century source alleges that she ‘was known by his father after the wedding’. Catherine had clearly displeased her family as she is excluded from her father’s will and was only given a small stipend of £40 on the condition that she retired to a convent. The ‘scandal’ continues throughout Wolf Hall, but it is curious that Henry would have married a woman whose family reputation was so tainted, unless, of course, it wasn’t quite so simple.
JANE AND HER SIBLINGS
Historians have since pondered how Jane Seymour not only captured Henry’s attention but then held it long enough to be elevated to Queen Consort. It certainly baffled her contemporaries, with various ambassadors including Chapuys writing to their respective masters that she must possess some special quality which only Henry could see.
Mantel’s Cromwell is always interested in Jane’s circumstances, taking pity on her during her family’s scandal, presenting her with dainty gifts to cheer her up. He is quite drawn to Jane and even entertains romantic notions, which are destined to be thwarted. Jane serves as lady-in-waiting to both Katherine and Anne, although Mantel suggests Jane had more than one role at court, possibly as a spy.
Our evidence is scant regarding Jane’s formative years, but we do know that she was one of ten children, and was born at Wolf Hall in around 1508. Six of the children lived to adulthood: Jane, her two younger sisters, Elizabeth and Dorothy, and three elder brothers, Edward, Henry and Thomas. The Seymours did not enjoy any particular prominence, but the children received a good education befitting the family of a 16th-century gentleman. Jane was betrothed to William Dormer, son of Sir Robert and Lady Jane Dormer, a match brokered by Jane’s cousin, Francis Bryan. The engagement was broken off by the Dormers because rumour had it that they considered the Seymours’ social status did not benefit the family. But John Seymour was able to use his familial connection to the Howard family to secure two places for Jane and her sister Elizabeth (Bess) as ladies-in-waiting to Katherine of Aragon. Jane left court after Katherine fell from favour, but returned in 1535 to serve the new queen, Anne Boleyn.
Throughout this trilogy, Cromwell finds himself rather enamoured with both women at different times. Bess is described as an elegant woman, highly intelligent, witty and worldly. She married Sir Anthony Ughtred, Governor of Jersey, in 1530, who died four years later. The widowed Bess Seymour was clearly a desirable bride, and continued to attract attention, and from her letters, in particular to Cromwell, we catch a glimpse of a bold young woman who wrote with a frankness that the real Cromwell likely appreciated.
In Bring Up the Bodies, Chapuys admits to Cromwell that he cannot see Jane’s appeal. When Chapuys asks Cromwell what Henry sees in Jane, Cromwell answers simply: ‘He thinks she’s stupid. He finds it restful.’ Henry and Jane’s courtship played out before the entire court and beyond – everyone awaited the next instalment of Henry’s domestic arrangements.
As Jane’s star ascends, we begin to see more of Jane’s brothers, Edward and Thomas, in the sources and in Mantel’s series. They have flitted in and out of the narrative thus far, and now Cromwell feels it wise to nurture a closer relationship. But it is not all politics. Mantel’s Cromwell sees two very different personalities: Edward, the eldest of the Seymour siblings, enjoyed a modest career at court. He served in Charles Brandon’s French campaign of 1523, for which he was awarded a knighthood. In 1525, Edward was appointed Master of the Horse to Henry’s illegitimate son Henry Fitzroy, before entering Cardinal Wolsey’s household, where he may well have met Cromwell. In 1531, Edward was made an Esquire of the Body to the king, sealing his role at court. Edward was handsome, athletic, but serious and scholarly. Wolsey liked him, and Mantel’s Cromwell finds him to be reliable. Thomas Seymour, on the other hand, would not experience the same stellar rise to prominence, often overshadowed by his brother. His time would come after Cromwell’s death, and thus to Cromwell he is mostly just handsome.
THE RISE OF THE SEYMOURS
The year 1535 was a momentous one for the Seymours. Jane continued in Anne’s household as lady-in-waiting, and hosted the royal couple at Wolf Hall on their summer progress. Within months, Henry’s intentions towards Jane became evident. He was deeply smitten and a faction quickly formed around her, like bees around their queen. Apart from her immediate family, an important ally was Sir Nicholas Carew, Anne Boleyn’s cousin, who did not share Anne’s religious views and actively agitated against her, all the while tutoring Jane in how to keep the king’s interest. Two other significant supporters were Francis Bryan, and, of course, Cromwell. The court watched as Henry wooed another lady-in-waiting in full view of his wife and ministers. While the king had considerable experience of such affairs, it is difficult to get a sense of Jane during this hasty courtship. Historians have used and perpetuated the contrast between Anne and Jane – striking, dark-haired, intelligent and passionate versus bland, pale, weak-chinned and shy – to explain why Henry may have made such a choice. The despatches of Imperial Ambassador Eustace Chapuys are the source of detail about Anne Boleyn, but his communications from December 1536 through to November 1537 have disappeared from the archives, or perhaps they were destroyed, which means there is a lengthy gap in Chapuys’ reports, depriving us of his rich and rewarding perspectives of this period, and of Henry’s new queen.
Jane Rochford, returned to court in The Mirror And The Light, intimates to Cromwell that Jane is not as innocent as she appears, suggesting that she promoted friction and discord around her mistress, Anne Boleyn. Here, Mantel has Jane Rochford presenting the view of many historians who believe that, far from innocent, Jane and her faction contrived to present to the king a calm, rational and dignified foil to Anne’s increasingly irrational temper and hysteria. The Seymours actively plotted against Anne, and one example of the strategies they employed is the rather hasty change to their family crest, which was originally a peacock’s head and neck, its wings in mid-flight. But a humble woman like Jane could hardly have a proud peacock as her crest – the badge had to reflect the portrayal of Jane as meek and submissive. With a few brushstrokes, the peacock was transformed into a phoenix, the symbol of self-sacrifice.
Throughout the first months of 1536, Jane was coached carefully by her cousin, Nicholas Carew, and Cromwell may well have also played a part in instructing her. On one occasion, often recounted, Henry sent Jane a purse full of coins with a love letter, with the intention of making clear his intentions. Jane was likely forewarned and advised to make a rather theatrical display of the virtuous woman: she was careful not to open the letter but kissed it chastely, and then returned it unopened, begging the messenger to relay to the king that he might gift her when she had made an honourable match. It was a diplomatic way of extricating herself from a delicate situation: being propositioned by the king and spurning his advances.
Though Anne was never particularly popular, Jane was also not well-loved by the people to begin with. Many foun
d Henry’s haste to take a new wife, while Anne’s head was still lying on the scaffold, objectionable. However, her deference and desire to reconcile Henry with his oldest child, Mary, and her appeal to Henry’s gentler nature, endeared her to many and demonstrated a kindness and generosity of spirit that many felt Anne had lacked.
OLD FAMILIES, NEW ORDER
The Tudor period marked the shift from medieval to early modern. The reign of Henry VII changed the centuries-old power dynamic of the king and his people; he was unable to trust the ancient, powerful and conservative families that had always dominated the country. His 14-year-long exile informed his view of ableness and aptitude in the people around him. He chose new courtiers and new advisors – new men to serve under his rule and to heal the war-torn country. Skill now trumped lineage. When Henry VIII came to the throne, his challenges tested even the most devoted of the conservatives: he had the best of the new men to serve his will, and a formidable one it proved to be. Henry’s subjects were required to support his marital and religious exploits: the usurpation of an anointed queen; the execution of two queen consorts; the king becoming Supreme Head of the Church in England; the execution of John Fisher, the Bishop of Rochester; the repudiation of the legitimacy of both of his daughters; and the execution of some of his most loyal subjects.
Anne Boleyn’s reign had turned the country on its head, or in Wyatt’s words, ‘set the country in a roar’ but the accession of Jane Seymour, it was hoped, heralded a return to the first golden years of Henry’s reign, and if it didn’t, the old families were prepared to replace the king in order to facilitate the matter.
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