I don’t know if only I or the rest of you notice how modern culture places English history the most (especially the Tudor and York dynasties,etc) on TV. Don’t get me wrong, they really deserve attention and they are interesting, but I think there are many other European (world!) dynasties that deserve a lot of attention. Again, don’t get me wrong, I adore those series, but I wish there were more series about Russian history, Austro-Hungarian, Italian, about the ancient peoples of America, Africa, Asia, about ancient Greece, Rome, etc … No hate, just my opinion! If you have any suggestions about some other historical shows (or movies, it doesn’t matter), feel free to answer me! Don’t you agree?
Katharine of Aragon died January 7, 1536, and was buried twenty-two days later in St. Peterborough Cathedral. Today, it seems like an incredibly long time between death and burial, but it was common for royals in the era. Funerals for the Tudors were elaborate affairs that involved a great deal of preparation.
Henry VIII ostentatiously celebrated when he was told the woman who had stubbornly insisted she was his wife was dead. He ordered she be buried with the pomp and ceremony due a princess dowager - the title she had as the wife of his dead brother. It wasn’t a sign of respect; it was once again to make the point she was never legally his wife. (And it was probably at his behest that the funeral sermon included the false statement that Katharine had admitted on her death bed that she was never truly Henry’s wife.)
Funeral homes and morticians didn’t exist in the Tudor era. Katharine’s own servants would have to prepare her body for burial, rendering their final services to the queen. Her chamberlain wrote to Cromwell, offering an easy solution for the immediate issues.
"The Groom of the Chandlery [candles] here can cere [embalm] her,“ but he added that a plumber (leadworker) needed to be sent for quickly to seal her in a coffin, ”for that may not tarry.“
AmbassadorEustace Chapuys,wrote to the emperor after she was embalmed, because the findings cemented in his mind the idea Katharine had been poisoned.
The good Queen breathed her last at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Eight hours afterwards, by the King’s express commands, the inspection of her body was made, without her confessor or physician or any other officer of her household being present, save the fire-lighter in the house, a servant of his, and a companion of the latter, who proceeded at once to open the body.
Neither of them had practised chirurgy, and yet they had often performed the same operation, especially the principal or head of them, who, after making the examination, went to the bishop of Llandaff, the Queen’s confessor, and declared to him in great secrecy, and as if his life depended on it, that he had found the Queen’s body and the intestines perfectly sound and healthy, as if nothing had happened, with the single exception of the heart, which was completely black, and of a most hideous aspect; after washing it in three different waters, and finding that it did not change colour, he cut it in two, and found that it was the same inside, so much so that after being washed several times it never changed colour.
The man also said that he found inside the heart something black and round, which adhered strongly to the concavities. And moreover, after this spontaneous declaration on the part of the man,my secretary having asked the Queen’s physician whether he thought the Queen had died of poison, the latter answered that in his opinion there was no doubt about it, for the bishop [of Llandaff] had been told so under confession, and besides that, had not the secret been revealed, the symptoms, the course, and the fatal end of her illness were a proof of that.
Today, it’s believed the black growth they described was a cancerous tumor, but Chapuys was convinced that it was evidence of poison that had been in some Welsh beer that Katharine had drank before her final illness.
Katharine’s internal organs were removed to try to stave off decay and were either buried in separate containers with the deceased, or sometimes sent to other locations. The account of Nicholas Sanders states that Princess Mary Tudor (“Bloody” Mary I)
…was opened by her Physicians and Surgeons, who took out her bowels, which were coffined and buried solemnly in the Chapel [of St. James Palace], her Heart being separately enclosed in a coffin covered with purple velvet, bound with silver.
Another queen, Eleanor of Castile, ended up in all sorts of places. Her bowels (intestines and stomach) were interred in Lincoln Cathedral, her heart was placed in Blackfriars Monastery, and the rest of her body was interred in Westminster Abbey.
The empty torso cavity was then stuffed with straw and herbs. I’ve seen mention of wax sometimes being poured into the cavity, but haven’t confirmed it. Perfumed salve containing preserving spices and salts were often rubbed onto the body.
The body was then wrapped in cere cloth - waxed linen - and then coated with wax by the chandler. It was then wrapped in sheets of lead, forming a mummy-like bundle. This container was usually then set inside a coffin, but there’s at least one known instance (Kateryn Parr) of the bundle being buried by itself in the earth.
Perfumes and spices were often poured into the coffin; the exhumers of royal graves sometimes reported the body lying in unidentifiable fluids. In 1761, an apothecary sent a bill to the palace for the supplies for the funeral of the queen:
… for fine double cere cloth, with a large quantity of very rich perfumed aromatic Powders for embalming her late Majesty’s Royal Body, and a very large quantity of sweets to fill the coffin and urn [for the organs] with: a large quantity of Honey-water, and a very large quantity of Lavender-water and also a very large additional quantity of the same fine sweets. Honey and Lavender-waters to new fill the Coffin in the Royal Vault.
The embalming was now compete and the elaborate funeral ceremonies could begin.
Katharine’s body could not be left alone. The body would be set up in the chapel of the house or in the noble’s own chambers, surrounded by candles. Katharine’s ladies prayed round the clock beside the coffin.
Katharine’s wake was described thus by the French ambassador:
The next day, Friday, 26, was provided, in the chamber of presence, a hearse with twenty-four tapers, garnished with pensils and other decencies. Also, in the same chamber was provided an altar, for mass to be said, richly apparelled with black, garnished with the cross, images, censers, and other ornaments; and daily masses were said by her chaplains. The corpse was reverently conveyed from the place where she died, under a hearse covered with a rich pall of cloth of gold, and a cross set thereupon; lights were burning night and day upon the altar all divine service time. All ladies were in mourning habits, with white kerchiefs over their heads and shoulders, kneeling about the hearse all service time in lamentable wise, at mass forenoon and at dirige after.
Because the body itself had been bundled away, a wax or wood effigy was created to rest on top of the coffin, dressed in the deceased’s own clothing. Some effigies still survive at Westminster Abbey and some of them are startlingly life-like. Katharine’s was not preserved.
Katharine’s short will had made a few bequests to her servants. She had left her gowns to be used to make church vestments, and the fur trim from them to her daughter. She requested to be buried in the Chapel of the Observant Friars. Chapuys went to visit the king to see about her burial and whether the conditions of her will would be met.
On these points Cromwell replied to one of my servants, that as to the burial, it could not be done where she had desired, for there remained no convent of Observants in England; but as to the rest, everything would be done as regards the Princess and the servants as honourably and magnificently as I could demand. Next day I sent my man to the Court to Cromwell, to ascertain the whole will of the King on the subject. […] At the end he spoke to him more coolly than he had done the day before, adding the condition that the King wished first to see what the robes and furs were like, and that if the Princess wished to have what had been given her she must first show herself obedient to her father, and that I ought to urge her to be so.
[…]
As to the burial, the King said the same as Cromwell, that the bequest of her robes to the Church was superfluous, considering the great abundance of ecclesiastical vestments in England, and that although the Queen’s will was not accomplished in this respect, something would be done in the abbey where she should be interred that would be more notable and worthy of her memory; that the abbey intended for her was one of the most honorable in all England. It is 17 miles from where she lived, and is called Pittesbery (Peterborough). As to the servants, it concerned nobody so much as himself to requife their services, as he had appointed them to her service. As to the Princess, it depended only on herself that she should have not merely all that her mother left her, but all that she could ask, provided she would be an obedient daughter.
Clothing in black was made for all of the participants in the funeral. Banners, palls, and other funerary items had to be crafted, as well. Funerals could be incredibly expensive for this reason. Queen Mary’s funeral cost nearly eight thousand pounds - millions of dollars in today’s terms.
Katharine’s hearse was then drawn to Peterborough Cathedral. Her funeral procession and service is described in the state papers:
First, 16 priests or clergymen in surplices went on horseback, without saying a word, having a gilded laten cross borne before them; after them several gentlemen, of whom there were only two of the house, et le demeurant estoient tous emprouvez, and after them followed the maître d’hotel and chamberlain, with their rods of office in their hands; and, to keep them in order, went by their sides 9 or 10 heralds, with mourning hoods and wearing their coats of arms; after them followed 50 servants of the aforesaid gentlemen, bearing torches and bâtons allumés, which lasted but a short time, and in the middle of them was drawn a wagon, upon which the body was drawn by six horses all covered with black cloth to the ground.
The said wagon was covered with black velvet, in the midst of which was a great silver cross; and within, as one looked upon the corpse, was stretched a cloth of gold frieze with a cross of crimson velvet, and before and behind the said wagon stood two gentlemen ushers with mourning hoods looking into the wagon, round which the said four banners were carried by four heralds and the standards with the representations by four gentlemen.
Then followed seven ladies, as chief mourners, upon hackneys, that of the first being harnessed with black velvet and the others with black cloth. After which ladies followed the wagon of the Queen’s gentlemen; and after them, on hackneys, came nine ladies, wives of knights. Then followed the wagon of the Queen’s chambermaids; then her maids to the number of 36, and in their wake followed certain servants on horseback.
The hearse rested in the cathedral for three days, surrounded by one thousand burning candles, before a final mass was said and the coffin interred in her tomb below the floor. Katharine of Aragon was laid to rest, and her soul was hopefully at peace.
Descriptions of the tomb Henry built for Katharine are somewhat vague, and it seems it was dismantled, piecemeal, over the years. Henry stated he did not want to do anything more than was “requisite and needful” for the tomb of a princess dowager - the title she had as his brother’s widow, so it was never very elaborate. Supposedly, he was once chided for the humble burial of Katharine and said that the cathedral itself was her tomb. It was one of the churches he left intact after the Dissolution, possibly because it was her burial location.
Try though he might, Henry could never erase Katharine from the hearts and minds of the English people. He’d hoped she would be forgotten, but even after her death, she was still revered.
There’s an old story that Katharine’s faithful friend, Maria de Salinas, was buried in the same tomb as Katharine, and the tomb was opened in 1777 to see if it was true. Only one body lay within. The Victorians - ever constant with their ghoulish curiosity, opened Katharine’s tomb again, and confirmed only one occupant.
One hundred years after she died, Katharine had a miracle attributed to her. In 1640, a man with a tumor growing on his forehead claimed to have dreamt of water dripping on her tomb. When he visited the church and saw water on the slab, he dipped his finger into it and was cured of the growth.
Her hearse seems to have have been left in place as it's described as being destroyed in 1643 during the English civil war because it had an altar in it.
Queen Katherine of Arragon was buried in the north choir aisle, just outside the most eastern arch, in 1535 [actually 1536]. A hearse was placed near, probably between the two piers. Four years later this is described as “the inclosed place where the Lady Katherine lieth,” and there seems to have been a small altar within it. Some banners that adorned it remained in the cathedral till 1586. About the same time some persons were imprisoned for defacing the “monument,” and required to “reform the same.” The only monument, strictly so called, of which there is any record, was a low table monument, raised on two shallow steps, with simple quatrefoils, carved in squares set diamond-wise. Engravings of this shew it to have been an insignificant and mean erection. A few slabs of it were lately found buried beneath the floor, and they are now placed against the wall of the aisle. One of the prebendaries repaired this monument at his own cost, about 1725, and supplied a tiny brass plate with name and date, part of which remains in the floor. This monument was removed in 1792.
Afterward, Katharine’s grave remained mostly unadorned until Katharine Clayton, the wife of one of the cathedral canons, had the idea of making an appeal to English women named Catherine to help her restore Katharine’s resting place to something befitting a queen.
An engraved marble slab was installed and a grille with the gilded words KATHARINE QUEEN OF ENGLAND was mounted above.
Mary of Teck (consort of George V) ordered that the banners of a queen - the arms of England and Spain - be hung above, giving back Katharine’s due honors after 400 years.
The memorial plaque installed calls her:
A queen cherished by the English people for her loyalty, piety, courage and compassion.
Today, visitors still leave pomegranates on her tomb, and rarely is it without fresh flowers. Every year, the cathedral hosts a festival in Katharine of Aragon’s honor. There is also a current movement to have Katharine named as a saint in the Catholic Church.
When Henry, Duke of Cornwall was born on January 1, 1511, England erupted in celebration.
He was the second child born to Henry and his young queen, Katharine of Aragon. The first had been a daughter, stillborn, who was delivered 33 weeks after the marriage. She was never given a name.
Almost a year later, Katharine was brought to bed and delivered the little prince. King Henry must have felt God was smiling down upon him. Katharine, too, for she had fulfilled the duty of a queen to give her husband and new homeland an heir to the throne. Here was the future King Henry IX, the Tudors’ shaky claim to the throne upheld by the noble blood of the House Trastámara, and Katharine’s own descent from John of Gaunt.
The public fountains ran with free wine for the populace, and bonfires were lit in celebration. The cannons blasted from the top of the Tower walls and churchbells rang for hours. It was a public holiday, and all of England joined in the party.
The “New Year’s Boy” as he was called, was baptized in a grand ceremony - one that his mother could not attend, because she had not been “churched” (ritually blessed) and allowed to re-enter public life. He was named Henry after his father and grandfather, and given the title Duke of Cornwall. The title of Prince of Wales was never officially given to him, but it would have been later in his life.
One of his godfathers was King Louis XII of France, who sent a gift of a salt cellar and cup containing almost a hundred ounces of gold. He gave to the child’s nurse, Elizabeth Poyntz, a gold chain worth £30 and £10 to the midwife who had delivered the child. Margaret of Austria - who would see to the education of a young Anne Boleyn in just a few years - was one of Prince Henry’s godmothers.
While his wife was still in seclusion after the birth, Henry made a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Walsingham to give thanks for the safe arrival of his prince. According to writer Henry Spellman, King Henry rode to Barsham, where he dismounted and walked the rest of the way to the shrine barefooted. There, he prostrated himself on the ground before the statue of the Virgin, and gave an offering of a valuable necklace. Later, this same shrine would be denounced, pillaged, and dismantled by the king during the Dissolution.
As soon as Katharine was “churched” and could resume life with the court, the prince’s birth was celebrated with a tournament, by far the most lavish that had been seen in England in living memory. Some scholars have said it was the third most expensive event of Henry’s reign thus far, after his father’s funeral and Henry and Katharine’s joint coronation. It wouldn’t be surpassed until the extravaganza of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. Sir Thomas Boleyn was one of the knights who rode on the second day of the tournament, but he’s not listed among those who were given prizes.
Henry jousted as “Sir Loyal Heart” in lists that were decorated tolook like an enchanted forest. Katharine distributed the prizes to the valiant knights. It was was followed by a sumptuous banquet in Westminster Palace, which ended up getting a bit out of hand when the crowd swarmed the king and stripped his person of the jewels and gold stitched to his clothing. But Henry was in a jovial, permissive mood, as he always was when things went his way.
Henry began setting up his son’s separate household by appointing the dozens of servants appropriate to his princely status. It included forty men at arms for protection, and food tasters, to make sure that none of his nurse’s food was poisoned. His nurse, Elizabeth Poyntz was supervised by a Lady Mistress, and he had four “rockers” to keep his cradle moving.
“The names of divers persons which were daily waiters upon the Prince,” viz.:—Carver: Edw. Wylloughby. Sewer: Edm. Losell. Gentleman usher: Edm. Gray. Gentlemen waiters: Wm. Harrys, Nic. Wykes. Chaplains: Mr. William Underwood, Mr. Chr. Browne, Mr. Th. Pekesall, clerk of the Closet.Yeomen of the Chamber: George Sutton, yeoman usher, Wm. Lambert, Maurice Alyde, Wm. Bendish, Wm. Clerke, John Smythe. Grooms of the Chamber: John Cowper, Wm. Holyns, Edw. Forest, Ric. Braybroke.Countinghouse: John Waliston, gentleman. Bakehouse: John Downer, yeoman, one conduct. Pantry: Th. Blythe. Cellar: Th. Parker Buttery and Pitcherhouse: John Appulby and John Parre, grooms. Ewery and Chamber: Rob. Spurnell, groom, David ap John, yeoman. Kitchen: Wm. Blacnall, clerk of the Kitchen, Wm. Bolton, groom, Wm. Dully, groom, and a child. Larder, Boilinghouse and Scalding-house: Th. Skelton, groom, Rob. Lynton. Accatry: Th. Raudon. Poultry: Wm. Botell, yeoman. Scullery: John Barnabee, groom,—Fitton, page. Saucery: Wm. Larke, groom, Th. Salkyll. Hall: Wm. Benson.Porter: Simon Symmys, groom. Almonry (“Awmery”): John Hamlet, groom.Grooms of the King’s chamber: Ric. Chachemay, Wm. Wyndslowe. Clerk of the Works: Walter Foster (per mandatum Domini Camerarii).
But these latter appointments would end up lasting only a few days. On the 22nd of February came the terrible news that the New Year’s Boy had died. He had lived only 52 days.
Nothing survives in the records to tell us the cause of death. He seemed to be hale and hearty enough at birth - enough so that the baptism had been performed five days after birth, whereas sickly infants were baptized immediately. No mentions in the records are made of him being ill. His death seems to come from nowhere, sudden and shocking. Crib death, or respiratory infection (the Tudors had notoriously weak lungs) have been suggested. It’s likely we’ll never know. It was an era of high infant mortality, and the Tudor child-rearing practices didn’t help matters.
Prince Henry’s funeral was nearly as lavish as the tournament that celebrated his birth. His father paid £400 for the black cloth for the mourners’ clothing, and the covering of the hearse. Another 186 yards bedecked the three barges that carried the mourners downriver to the church, and 327 yards were used to drape the choir in Westminster Abbey. The candles that burned day and night by the hearse required 974 pounds of wax.
SirThomas Boleyn had ridden in the celebratory joust, and was now noted as one of the mourners who marched in the funeral procession. He would have been given a black suit of clothing - the fineness of its cloth suitable to his rank - as was tradition.
Prince Henry was buried in Westminster, on the north side of the sanctuary near the entrance to the shrine of St. Edward the Confessor. The grave, however, was never given a marker or monument. The general location of his grave is known. During excavations for the new High Altar in the 1860s, a small lead coffin of a child was discovered - it may have been the coffin of the prince.
It wasn’t unusual for the graves of infants to be unmarked in the Tudor era, and when they were, their monuments were usually very simple, like the markers on the graves of the infant children of the Boleyn family. The choice seems to have been up to the parents, and there was no societal pressure to mark the graves of small children. None of Katharine’s infants were given grave markers - perhaps it simply hurt her too much to think of it.
The queen was crushed with grief. Edward hall said of her:
Like a natural woman, [she] made much lamentation, howbeit by the king’s good persuasion and behavior, her sorrow was mitigated, but not shortly.
Katharine, always pious, intensified her religious devotion, reportedly spending hours kneeling on bare stone floors to pray. She fasted arduously, made offerings at shrines, and begged God to send her another child, but it was two years before she became pregnant again.
The little lost New Year’s Boy makes one final appearance in the records. In September, 1511, Elizabeth Poyntz was given an annuity of £20 for life - Henry didn’t blame her for the death of his beloved son. Later, Elizabeth Poyntz’s own son would host Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII at his home in new rooms he had built onto his home just for their visit.
On December 23, 1527, Pope Clement received the draft of a dispensation Henry VIII wanted him to grant. Though Henry was still married to Katharine of Aragon in the eyes of the church, he was seeking permission to wed another woman - provided he was able to dissolve his first marriage - and this dispensation was supposed to clear any impediments to that union.
Proposed bull of dispensation for Henry VIII., in case his marriage with Katharine, his brother’s widow, be pronounced unlawful, to marry another, even if she have contracted marriage with another man, provided it be not consummated, and even if she be of the second degree of consanguinity, or of the first degree of affinity, ex quocumque licito seu illicito coitu [from any licit or illicit intercourse]; in order to prevent uncertainty in the succession, which in past times has been the occasion of war.
This version, nor the one eventually approved by the pope, did not directly mention Anne, but it cleared away any possible legal objections to their marriage. The dispensation went through multiple drafts before a final one was submitted to the pope and approved in April.
… in the event of a declaration of nullity of such a marriage, to be dispensed to marry any other woman whatever, even though she has already contracted marriage with another, as long as she has not consummated it with carnal coupula, or even if she be related to you in the second or more remote degrees of consanguinity, or in the first degree of affinity arising from whatever licit or illicit intercourse, as long as she is not the widow of your aforesaid brother, and even if she be related to you by spiritual or legal kinship and the impediment of public righteousness or honesty be present.
Some scholars believe Henry was trying to frame the dispensation in such broadly general terms that it could apply to other women besides Anne Boleyn as part of his continuing efforts to disguise his relationship with her. At this point, Henry still maintained that he was just trying to ensure his marriage to Katharine was entirely valid, and Anne was simply a maiden of his court he was flirting with. Almost a year later, in November 1528, he addressed the people and said:
And as touching the queen, if it be adjudged by the law of God that she is my lawful wife, there was never thing more pleasant nor more acceptable to me in my life, both for the discharge and clearing of my conscience, and also for the good qualities and conditions which I know to be in her. For I assure you all, that beside her noble parentage of the which she is descended (as you well know), she is a woman of most gentleness, of most humility and buxomness, yea, and in all good qualities appertaining to nobility she is without comparison, as I, these twenty years almost, have had the true experiment; so that if I were to marry again, If the marriage might be good, I would surely choose her above all other women.
But it’s questionable as to whether anyone actually believed him. By this time, everyone knew of his desire to marry Anne and make her his queen.
The dispensation brings up several interesting points about Henry’s proposed union with Anne. The wording that dispenses any precontracts Anne may have had is a little confusing - perhaps intentionally so - leaving it vague how far the precontract actually went. One version suggests she had entered into an actual marriage that was never consummated, while another suggests it was a contract entered before the unnamed woman was of legal age. As a result scholars aren’t sure whether the dispensation referred to the negotiations to marry Anne to James Butler, or her aborted attempt to marry Henry Percy, which might be what the “public honesty” clause referred to.
Next, the dispensation discusses any problems arising from affinity, or blood relation. It allows Henry to marry a woman who is even within the second degree of consanguinity. Henry and Anne weren’t related by blood except by the eighth or ninth degree - seventh cousins, once removed. The dispensation was clearing the way for him to marry a woman who might be as closely related as his third cousin. Was their some confusion over whether they might share a great-great grandparent, or that her proposed betrothal to James Butler/Henry Percy put her within the forbidden degrees of relation? (Henry Percy was the king’s third cousin.) The dispensation may have been meant to cut off any arguments that Anne’s entanglement with these men created an issue.
The “licit or illicit intercourse” the dispensation referred to was from Henry’s affair with Mary Boleyn. Henry was trying to annul his marriage to Katharine based on the scriptural prohibition from marrying one’s brother’s widow. His affair with Mary Boleyn created - in the eyes of the chuch - the exact same incestual relationship. Cardinal Reginald Pole wrote a scathing letter to Henry pointing out this very fact.
Now what sort of person is it whom you have put in the place of your divorced wife? Is she not the sister of her whom first you violated? And for a long time after kept as your concubine? She certainly is. How is it, then, that you now tell us of the horror you have of illicit marriage? Are you ignorant of the law which certainly no less prohibits marriage with a sister of one with whom you have become one flesh, than with one with whom your brother was one flesh? If the one kind of marriage is detestable, so is the other. Were you ignorant of this law? Nay, you knew it better than others. How do I prove that? Because, at the very time you were rejecting your brother’s widow, you were doing your utmost to get leave from the pope to marry the sister of your former concubine.
The final version dispensed with even spiritual affinity, in case a relationship such as being the godfather of one of Anne’s relatives created an issue. Once the final wording was agreed upon, the dispensation was granted by the pope. Henry had permission to marry Anne, provided he was able to get his first marriage annulled, an issue on which the pope had not decided.
Henry must have been delighted at the ease with which his commissioners were able to get the dispensation. He must have thought a quick judgment on the issue of his marriage to Katharine was coming and he would soon be able to marry his sweetheart.
Christmas was one of the high points of the year for the Tudor court. Nobles who had retired to their country homes often returned for the festivities, so the palace would be packed to capacity during the season. So many courtiers attended in 1532 that temporary kitchens had to be erected on the grounds of Greenwich to prepare enough food for the crowd.
Christmas of 1532 was a particularly lavish celebration for Henry’s court. He was in a joyous mood. Anne Boleyn and Henry had secretly married a month prior, and though Anne likely didn’t know it yet, she was carrying Henry’s child.
They had not yet announced the marriage to the court, waiting for the right moment, but it seems there were a few hints about it. A new play by John Heywood was performed at court that Christmas, The Play of the Weather. As with many forms of art in the period, it was an allegory, wrapping current events in a fine veil of mythological references.
Jupiter (Henry) hears requests from people begging for the sort of weather they need to be successful in their endeavors. The play alludes to the creation of a new moon because the “old moon” (Katharine of Aragon) could hold no water (have children) but, by Saint Anne, the “weather” would soon amend - an allusion that needs no explanation.
This was the second year that Katharine of Aragon had been absent from the Christmas festivities. The prior year, the French ambassador had attended a feast hosted by Anne in her chambers, rather than the traditional feast presided over by the king and queen. This year, Anne openly took the place of Katharine, and also resided in the queen’s chambers.
Katharine sent a Christmas gift to her husband, as always. Imperial ambassador Eustace Chapuys describes the scene:
The Queen [Katharine] having been forbidden to write letters or send messages to the King, and yet wishing to fulfil her duty towards him in every respect,caused to be presented to him on New Year’s Day, by one of the gentlemen of the chamber, a gold cup of great value and singular workmanship, the gift being offered in the most humble and appropriate terms for the occasion.
The King, however, not only refused to accept the present, but seemed at first very angry with the gentleman who had undertaken to bring it. Yet it appears that two or three hours afterwards the King himself desired to see the cup again, praised much its shape and workmanship, and fearing lest the gentleman of his chamber who had received it from the Queen’s messenger should take it back immediately—in which case the Queen might have it presented again before the courtiers (devant tout lemonde), when he (the King) could not well refuse its acceptance—he ordered the gentleman not to give the cup back until the evening, which was accordingly done, and it was then returned to the Queen. The King, moreover, has sent her no New Year’s gift on this occasion, but has, I hear, forbidden the members of his Privy Council, as well as the gentlemen of his chamber, and others to comply with the said custom.
The King used also on New Year’s Day to send [presents] to the ladies of the Queen’s Household, and to those of the Princess, but this custom, hitherto faithfully observed, has now been discontinued, and no present has been sent, which is a sign to me that unless some prompt remedy be applied the state of the Queen and of her daughter, the Princess, will become worse and worse every day.
The King has not been equally uncourteous towards the Lady [Anne Boleyn] from whom he has accepted certain darts, worked in the Biscayan fashion, richly ornamented, and presented her inreturn rich hangings for one room, and a bed covered with gold and silver cloth, crimson satin, and embroidery richer than all the resit The Lady [Anne], moreover, is still lodging where the Queen formerly was, and during the late festivities has been attended by almost the same number of the ladies as the Queen herself had formerly in her suite, as if she were already a Queen.
The “darts” Chapuys mentions were Anne’s gift to Henry. “Boar spears” is usually how they’re described in histories of the era, but they were actually more like swords:
These boar-spear swords were made with a point like a spear, with a small bar of steel fixed transversely in the blade, about six inches from the extreme point, and just below the broadened end. No examples remain at the Tower, but at Windsor Castle is a good specimen. It has the grip covered with cuirbouilly, tooled with a small pattern. The cross-bar has been lost, but the hole in the blade shows where it was placed. The reason for this bar was the same as for that of the boar-spear, and in the Triumph of Maximilian by Burghmaier hunters are shown carrying both weapons.
Henry’s gifts to Anne that year included a set of magnificent bedchamber hangings and magnificent silver, which he had polished and stamped with her arms before delivery:
Warrant under the King’s sign manual to Cromwell, master of the Jewels, to deliver to the lady of Pembroke these parcels of gilt plate, late of Sir Henry Guldeford, controller of the Household :—2 gilt pots with round knobs behind the lids, which came to Sir Henry as executor to Sir William Compton, weighing 133 oz. ; a pair of gilt flagons with the arms of France, 147 oz. ; 6 gilt bowls without a cover, 200½oz. ; 3 gilt salts with a cover of Parres touch,“ which belonged to Sir Will. Compton, 77 oz. ; 12 gilt spoons with demi-knops at the end, 18 oz. ; a pair of parcel-gilt pots, 99½ oz. ; another, 97¾ oz. ; another, 71 oz. ; 6 parcel-gilt bowls without cover, 199¼ oz. ; the cover of the same, 19¾ oz. ; a basin and ewer, parcel-gilt, 77 oz. ; another basin and ewer, parcel-gilt, 64 oz. ; 11 white spoons with roses at the ends, 20¼ oz. ; 4 candles, white, with high sockets, 86½ oz. ; “a round bason of silver for a chamber, and a silver pot to the same, weighing together 138½ oz.” ; and a chafing dish, parcel-gilt, 39¾ oz. “And that ye make entry of the foresaid parcels of plate into our book of Extra for the rather noticing the same hereafter.” Greenwich, 1 Jan. 24 Hen. VIII.
He gave her father a steel “glass” (probably a mirror) in a wooden case lined with black velvet. To Anne’s mother, Henry sent a needlework case and six shirt collars - three in gold and three in silver. Anne’s brother, George, was given two gilt “hyngers” - which were short swords with gold decorations. Jane Parker, Lady Rochford was given four caps - two of satin, two of velvet - decorated with gold buttons.
Within a month or so, Anne Boleyn would know she was pregnant, and the couple would re-marry on the night of a new moon in the gatehouse at Whitehall palace. Rumors would fly, and Anne would make broad hints as she ruled as queen in all but name, but the marriage would not be officially announced until Easter.
Anne Boleyn’s ghost is said to walk the grounds of Hever Castle around Christmas time, appearing beneath an oak tree where she and Henry are said to have courted. She crosses a bridge, it is said, and tosses a sprig of holly into the river.
