The Lady In The Tower Part 9

A laudatory treatise on Anne Boleyn by her former chaplain, William Latymer, was almost certainly presented to Elizabeth I, to whom it was dedicated. Only a draft copy survives (in the Bodleian Library, Oxford), but that the Queen approved of its author's determination to rehabilitate her mother's memory is apparent in her lavis.h.i.+ng many rewards on him.52 It is also possible that Queen Elizabeth commissioned by stealth George Wyatt's defense of her mother, written at the end of the sixteenth century. Wyatt himself claimed that he "was entreated by some who might command me some who might command me [author's italics] to further this endeavor," and that he had undertaken the writing of his life of Anne Boleyn at "the request of him that hath been [author's italics] to further this endeavor," and that he had undertaken the writing of his life of Anne Boleyn at "the request of him that hath been by authority by authority set on work in this so important business, both for the singular gifts of G.o.d in him of learning, wisdom, integrity, and virtue, and also the encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend my lord of Canterbury's Grace." The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was John Whitgift, who was a personal friend of Elizabeth and attended her on her deathbed in 1603. set on work in this so important business, both for the singular gifts of G.o.d in him of learning, wisdom, integrity, and virtue, and also the encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend my lord of Canterbury's Grace." The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was John Whitgift, who was a personal friend of Elizabeth and attended her on her deathbed in 1603.

Wyatt's memorial was never finished, so there is no dedication that might reveal the names of his patrons. Could it be that the Virgin Queen, nearing the end of her life, felt that the record should be set straight? Unlike Mary I, she had never had the annulment of her mother's marriage reversed, or the sentence on Anne, and she may have felt that by doing so, she would be reviving old scandals that might compromise her own legitimacy and even destabilize her crown. It would be in character, though, for her covertly to let it be known, through Whitgift and others, that she wanted Wyatt-whose extensive researches were evidently known of at court-to write a defense of Anne in answer to Nicholas Sander's calumnies, which had reflected so badly upon Anne Boleyn and herself.

But who was the unnamed man who had been "by authority set on work in this so important business," and who encouraged Wyatt to write his memorial? By whose authority had he done so? The fact that neither the authorizer or the authorized are identified suggests that both wished to remain anonymous. The virtues enumerated by Wyatt were of the kind typically attributed to worthy persons at that time, so they do not help us. Yet the fact that Wyatt was asked to write his defense by a man who had been authorized to further this project, and was then encouraged in his labors by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself-who was close to Elizabeth and in a position to know the workings of her conscience and her mind-suggests that she herself was the prime mover.

The fact that the Archbishop had only begun encouraging Wyatt "of late" implies perhaps that the unknown man who commissioned the work had died. We might conjecture that he was Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, the chamberlain of Queen Elizabeth's household, who died in the spring of 1596. No one would have been better placed to ask Wyatt to write his defense, for Anne Boleyn was his aunt, he being the only son of her sister Mary.

Mary Boleyn, who earned a reputation for promiscuity at the courts of France and England,53 had briefly been Henry VIII's mistress before he began pursuing her sister Anne, and it has been suggested that Henry Carey, who was born (according to the inscription on his tomb in Westminster Abbey) in March 1525, was in fact Henry VIII's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. This was rumored in the King's lifetime: in 1535, John Hale, the Vicar of Isleworth in Middles.e.x, reported how a nun of nearby Syon Abbey had pointed out "young Master Carey" and told him that the boy was Henry's natural son. It should be remembered, however, that Hale, who was to be executed that year for denying the royal supremacy, also put about the unfounded rumor that "the King's Grace had meddling with the Queen's mother," had briefly been Henry VIII's mistress before he began pursuing her sister Anne, and it has been suggested that Henry Carey, who was born (according to the inscription on his tomb in Westminster Abbey) in March 1525, was in fact Henry VIII's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. This was rumored in the King's lifetime: in 1535, John Hale, the Vicar of Isleworth in Middles.e.x, reported how a nun of nearby Syon Abbey had pointed out "young Master Carey" and told him that the boy was Henry's natural son. It should be remembered, however, that Hale, who was to be executed that year for denying the royal supremacy, also put about the unfounded rumor that "the King's Grace had meddling with the Queen's mother,"54 which Henry himself denied. which Henry himself denied.

It is highly unlikely that Henry VIII was Henry Carey's father. In 1519, when Elizabeth Blount presented the King with a b.a.s.t.a.r.d son, Henry FitzRoy, he had immediately acknowledged him as his own, then brought him up in princely fas.h.i.+on. In 1525, with Katherine of Aragon having failed to bear the King a son, the crisis over the succession was acute. That year, Henry bestowed on FitzRoy two royal dukedoms. This was not just a swipe at Katherine, who was mortified at the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's public enn.o.blement, nor was it merely an affirmation that Henry was a virile man who could get sons on other women. Natural children were important, and a king could use them to extend his power base and affinity, make politically advantageous alliances with the n.o.bility, and enforce the royal authority in remote parts of the kingdom such as the North-where FitzRoy was to be sent as his father's deputy-and the Welsh Marches; and clearly Henry VIII understood this. At this time, having no legitimate heir he was in fact grooming FitzRoy to succeed him on the throne.

Therefore it was in the King's interests, for many reasons, to acknowledge any b.a.s.t.a.r.ds he might have, and consequently his failure to acknowledge Henry Carey is strong evidence that the boy was not his. Furthermore, there is no evidence that Mary Boleyn was the King's mistress at the time of her son's conception, or indeed for several years beforehand; the fact is, we do not know when, or for how long, their affair took place, and its importance has probably been much overstated.

It has been said that Henry would not have acknowledged the boy because his relations.h.i.+p with Mary Boleyn was an impediment to his marriage to her sister, yet it was not until 1527, more than two years after Henry Carey's birth, that Henry resolved upon marrying Anne. It has also been claimed that a series of royal grants made to William Carey in the 1520s55 were to support young Henry Carey, yet William was the King's cousin (through his mother, Eleanor Beaufort) and an important and rising personage in the Privy Chamber who would doubtless have gone far had he not died young; these grants were an acknowledgment of his good service. There is no evidence that he was a complacent husband, or that he obligingly refrained from having s.e.xual relations with an adulterous wife. The King's former mistress, Elizabeth Blount, had been married off after the end of their affair and the birth of their son; Mary Boleyn's marriage, in 1520, were to support young Henry Carey, yet William was the King's cousin (through his mother, Eleanor Beaufort) and an important and rising personage in the Privy Chamber who would doubtless have gone far had he not died young; these grants were an acknowledgment of his good service. There is no evidence that he was a complacent husband, or that he obligingly refrained from having s.e.xual relations with an adulterous wife. The King's former mistress, Elizabeth Blount, had been married off after the end of their affair and the birth of their son; Mary Boleyn's marriage, in 1520,56 probably also took place after Henry had discarded her. probably also took place after Henry had discarded her.

Henry's son or not, Henry Carey was certainly Elizabeth's cousin, she was to create him Lord Hunsdon on her accession in 1558, and he, a plain-spoken soldier, would serve her loyally all his life. He too, surely, with mortality encroaching, would have wanted the record set straight about his aunt. And if the Queen had authorized him to ask George Wyatt to write his memorial as a response to the calumnies of Sander, then we have in it Elizabeth's own views on her mother.

CHAPTER 16.

A Work of G.o.d's Justice.

Anne Boleyn's contemporaries generally accepted the verdict of the ninety-five jurors who had sat on all the trials and commissions, and viewed her fall as "an object lesson in morality."1 While her daughter Elizabeth's chances of becoming queen seemed remote, there were virtually no attempts to rehabilitate Anne's reputation, and only a few dared express any doubts about the justness of the proceedings against her. People naturally-and prudently-took their cue from those in power, and one Edward Dudley was no doubt voicing the view of many when, in a letter to Cromwell dated June 3, 1536, he referred to her fall as "the misfortune that has happened to England." While her daughter Elizabeth's chances of becoming queen seemed remote, there were virtually no attempts to rehabilitate Anne's reputation, and only a few dared express any doubts about the justness of the proceedings against her. People naturally-and prudently-took their cue from those in power, and one Edward Dudley was no doubt voicing the view of many when, in a letter to Cromwell dated June 3, 1536, he referred to her fall as "the misfortune that has happened to England."2 William Thomas, later Clerk of the Council to Edward VI, wrote a laudatory account of Henry VIII ent.i.tled The Pilgrim The Pilgrim in 1546, which almost certainly reflects how the King's deeds were viewed by his subjects, and which was written in the form of a conversation with a disapproving Italian. Thomas says, in response to the charge that Henry "chopped and changed [wives] at his pleasure," that "with some of them, he hath had as ill luck as any poor man." Anne Boleyn's "liberal life were too shameful to rehea.r.s.e." Outwardly she appeared wise and imbued with good qualities and graces, but "inwardly, she was all another dame that she seemed to be; for in satisfying of her carnal appet.i.te, she fled not so much as the company of her own natural brother, besides the company of some three or four others, who were all so familiarly drawn to her train by her devilish devices." It seemed, Thomas added dryly, "she was always well-occupied." Henry, he wrote, "was forced to proceed therein by way of open justice, where the matter was manifested unto the whole world." in 1546, which almost certainly reflects how the King's deeds were viewed by his subjects, and which was written in the form of a conversation with a disapproving Italian. Thomas says, in response to the charge that Henry "chopped and changed [wives] at his pleasure," that "with some of them, he hath had as ill luck as any poor man." Anne Boleyn's "liberal life were too shameful to rehea.r.s.e." Outwardly she appeared wise and imbued with good qualities and graces, but "inwardly, she was all another dame that she seemed to be; for in satisfying of her carnal appet.i.te, she fled not so much as the company of her own natural brother, besides the company of some three or four others, who were all so familiarly drawn to her train by her devilish devices." It seemed, Thomas added dryly, "she was always well-occupied." Henry, he wrote, "was forced to proceed therein by way of open justice, where the matter was manifested unto the whole world."

In 1553, Henry VIII's son and successor, Edward VI, when arguing with his justices over altering the succession in favor of Lady Jane Grey and pa.s.sing over the rights of Mary and Elizabeth, told them: "It was the fate of Elizabeth to have Anne Boleyn for a mother; this woman was indeed not only cast off by my father because she was more inclined to couple with a number of courtiers rather than reverencing her husband, so mighty a king, but also paid the penalty with her head-a greater proof of her guilt."3 Writing in the Catholic Mary Tudor's reign, George Cavendish commented on how the memory of the woman who had "reigned in joy" (something of an overstatement) was held in disdain by "the world universal," that her name was slandered and that she was "called of each man the most vicious queen." Jane Dormer, d.u.c.h.ess of Feria, the close confidante of Queen Mary, believed-like most Catholics-that Anne had sinned with all the men accused with her in a vain attempt to bear a son.4 Cavendish, who also believed in Anne's guilt and that "the sharped sword" had been her recompense, did little to dispel this view, having her remorseful shade lament her fall: Cavendish, who also believed in Anne's guilt and that "the sharped sword" had been her recompense, did little to dispel this view, having her remorseful shade lament her fall: I dread my faults shall thy paper pierce, That thus have loved and been to G.o.d unkind; Vices preferring, setting virtue behind, Hateful to G.o.d, to most men contrary, Spotted with pride, viciousness and cruelty.

Oh sorrowful woman, my body and my soul Shall ever be burdened with slander detestable!

Fame in her register my defame will enrol, And to erase out the same no man shall be able.

My life of late hath been so abominable: Therefore my frailty I may both curse and ban, Wis.h.i.+ng to G.o.d I had never known man ...

My epitaph shall be, The vicious Queen Lyeth here, of late that justly lost her head, Because that she did spot the King's bed.5 By and by, all those who had known Anne Boleyn pa.s.sed away and their memories of her were lost, and with them all sense of the real woman she had been.6 Such was her infamy that her name had all-but been erased from history, and it might have languished in obscurity if not for the fact that her daughter Elizabeth I became Queen of England in 1558. In the eyes of Catholic Europe, Elizabeth was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a heretic and a usurper, and the daughter of an infamous adulteress. Such was her infamy that her name had all-but been erased from history, and it might have languished in obscurity if not for the fact that her daughter Elizabeth I became Queen of England in 1558. In the eyes of Catholic Europe, Elizabeth was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a heretic and a usurper, and the daughter of an infamous adulteress.7 It was after that date that Anne's history became distorted by biased Protestant and Catholic writers to the point where it became just a series of myths. It was after that date that Anne's history became distorted by biased Protestant and Catholic writers to the point where it became just a series of myths.

Anne Boleyn was especially notorious in Catholic countries, where scandalous tales about her proliferated, as did the details of her supposed promiscuousness and witchcraft. Even today, in Spain and Portugal, an evil, scheming woman can be called an "Ana-Bolena," and Anne was until recently portrayed as a demon in carnivals; while in Sicily, up to around 1850, there was a legend that she had been holed up under Mount Etna as punishment for her crimes.8 It was in this climate that the slanders of Nicholas Sander and others-like Cardinal William Allen, who branded Anne "an infamous courtesan" who had indulged in "incestuous copulation with Henry VIII, Elizabeth's "supposed father"-were written, and this legacy that was to blight the European reputation of Elizabeth I. It was in this climate that the slanders of Nicholas Sander and others-like Cardinal William Allen, who branded Anne "an infamous courtesan" who had indulged in "incestuous copulation with Henry VIII, Elizabeth's "supposed father"-were written, and this legacy that was to blight the European reputation of Elizabeth I.

But Anne's fame was not to be forever "burdened with slander detestable." As Cavendish's editor, Samuel Singer, put it in the early nineteenth century, "Protestant writers have not been wanting in zeal to defend the Queen from all the unjust aspersions upon her character, and have almost considered her as a martyr to the cause of the reformed church." This reversal took place after the accession of Anne's daughter, Elizabeth I, in 1558, when it suddenly became fas.h.i.+onable-and politic-to refer to the Queen's mother in laudatory terms, and Anne was once more hailed as the champion of religious reform.

"True religion in England had its commencement and its end with your mother," Alexander Aless, the Scots reformist, told Elizabeth as early as 1559; elsewhere in his letter he referred to Anne as "that most holy Queen, your most pious mother." He was convinced that she had died "in consequence of her love for the doctrine of the Gospel when it was in its infancy," and because she had persuaded the King to befriend the Lutherans at Wittenberg. "If other arguments of the truth of this were wanting, a single one would be sufficient, namely that before the emba.s.sy had returned, the Queen had been executed." But since then, G.o.d had declared her innocence "by the most indisputable miracles, proved by the testimonies of all G.o.dly men." Of course, it was now permissible to talk up Anne's links to the Lutherans, and Aless was on a mission, seeing it as his sacred duty "to write the history, or tragedy, of the death of your most holy mother, to afford consolation to the G.o.dly." No one, as far as he knew, had yet published such a work, which indeed seems to have been the case, although it would not remain so for long.

At Elizabeth's coronation that year, the Gracechurch Street pageant showed that Anne Boleyn's image was no longer to remain hidden or forgotten. It was now permissible to speak her name, and to speak it with honor.

One of the first of Anne's early defenders was an anonymous author who had known her and was writing a defense of her between 1563 and 1570; his work-if it were ever finished-does not survive, and is only known through a reference to it by John Foxe in the 1570 edition of his History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church (popularly known as Foxe's (popularly known as Foxe's Book of Martyrs Book of Martyrs, first published in 1563, and dedicated to Queen Elizabeth). Foxe wrote of Anne: "Because more is also promised to be declared of her virtuous life (the Lord so permitting) by other who were then about her, I will cease in this matter further to proceed."

John Foxe himself, who once enjoyed the patronage of Mary Howard, d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond, one of Anne's ladies, was one of the first to refer to Anne as a "G.o.dly" woman, "for sundry respects, whatsoever the cause was or quarrel objected against her." Numbering her among the English martyrs, he wrote that an impenetrable mystery surrounded her fall, but because he expected that to be examined in the work to which he had referred, he did not elaborate himself upon it.9 First, her last words declared no less her faith in Christ than did her modesty utter forth the goodness of the cause, whatsoever it was. Besides that, this also may seem to give a great clearing unto her, that the King, [being] married in his whites [wedding clothes] unto another [so soon after her death] represented a great clearing of her. Certain this was, that for the singular gifts of her mind, so well instructed and given toward G.o.d, joined with like gentleness and pity towards men, there hath not been many such queens before her borne the crown of England. Princ.i.p.ally, this commendation she left behind her, that during her life the religion of Christ had a right prosperous course. What a zealous defender she was of Christ's Gospel all the world doth know, and her acts do and will declare to the world's end. I marvel why Parliament, after the illegitimation of the marriage [was] enacted, should further proceed and charge her with such carnal desires as to misuse herself with her own natural brother, Lord Rochford, and others, being so contrary to all nature that no natural man will believe it.

Nor did the Elizabethans believe it. To them, Anne was a virtual saint. Although she died in the orthodox Catholic faith, she had given impetus and encouragement to the cause of reform, and for this, succeeding generations brought up in the Anglican tradition were prepared to forgive her less endearing deeds. The Protestant scholar John Aylmer, famous as the tutor of Lady Jane Grey, was voicing the new received wisdom when he posed the question, "Was not Queen Anne, the mother of the blessed woman, the chief, first and only cause of banis.h.i.+ng the Beast of Rome with all his beggarly baggage?"

"She was a comforter and aider of all the professors of Christ's Gospels," George Wyatt wrote. Her charities, benefactions, good works, alms, and "the heavenly flame burning in her" became the chief things that were remembered of her, and he concluded that "this princely lady was elect of G.o.d." It is not surprising, therefore, that Elizabethan chroniclers such as John Stow tended to omit the unpleasant details of Anne's fall. Instead, she and Henry VIII were portrayed as the righteous victims of Fortune or of unscrupulous, malicious schemers. These views would prevail in England right through the seventeenth century and into the eighteenth, a period during which Elizabeth I's accession day was celebrated as a national holiday.

William Shakespeare makes no mention of Anne's fall in his play All is True All is True, or Henry VIII Henry VIII (now thought to have been a collaboration with John Fletcher), which was written around 1613, in the reign of James I, Elizabeth's successor, and focuses on Henry's love for "Anne Bullen," her "gentle mind and heavenly blessings," her coronation and the triumphant birth of the future Queen Elizabeth. However, when Francis Bacon did touch on the controversial aspects of Anne's life in (now thought to have been a collaboration with John Fletcher), which was written around 1613, in the reign of James I, Elizabeth's successor, and focuses on Henry's love for "Anne Bullen," her "gentle mind and heavenly blessings," her coronation and the triumphant birth of the future Queen Elizabeth. However, when Francis Bacon did touch on the controversial aspects of Anne's life in The Tragedy of Anne Boleyn The Tragedy of Anne Boleyn, a play that dates probably from the late 1580s, he thought it best to write in cipher. The first part of Bacon's play is very like Shakespeare's, but he goes boldly beyond the scope of Henry VIII Henry VIII, portraying Henry's disappointment in Elizabeth's s.e.x, his fickle and changeable nature and how it prompted the false charges against Anne, the travesty of her trial, in which scene she is seen conducting herself n.o.bly, and her cruel death.

Bacon wrote several other works in code, but there can be no doubt that this play-which was not deciphered until 1901-was written in that manner because of its sensitive content, which might have offended Elizabeth I, and that it was never actually performed. Clearly, Bacon understood that the matters it dealt with were not to be spoken of. He wrote that such works would "perchance remain in hiding until a future people furnish wits keener than those of our own times to open this heavily barred entranceway and enter the house of treasure. Yet are we in hourly terror lest the Queen, our enemy at present, although likewise our mother, be cognizant of our invention." All the same, Bacon's depiction of Anne is sympathetic and in keeping with the Elizabethan tradition. "Every act and scene is a tender sacrifice," he wrote, "and an incense to her sweet memory."

It was not until 1720 that modern historical research into the subject of Henry VIII's wives began. That was when the antiquarian John Strype embarked on the vast task of collecting, collating, and preserving many important contemporary doc.u.ments. This inst.i.tuted a new tradition in historical study, which prompted independent a.n.a.lysis that was free-to a decreasing degree-of religious bias. From that time forward, public sympathy for Anne Boleyn began to burgeon, and one can detect in the works of eighteenth-century historians a certain antagonism toward Henry VIII, who was beginning to be regarded as an authoritarian bigot and a cruel lecher.

In the later eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the developing romantic movement in literature and the arts saw Anne Boleyn elevated to the status of tragic, wronged heroine, as she appears in Gaetano Donizetti's historically wildly inaccurate opera Anna Bolena Anna Bolena (1830), in which she is portrayed as the tragic victim of treasonable intrigues at court and finally goes mad in the Tower. Jane Austen vilified Henry as a vile fornicator and s.a.d.i.s.t, and bitterly bewailed the fate of his unfortunate wives. Here again, a new, emotive, and subjective tradition emerged, and it was in such a climate that Agnes Strickland wrote her celebrated (1830), in which she is portrayed as the tragic victim of treasonable intrigues at court and finally goes mad in the Tower. Jane Austen vilified Henry as a vile fornicator and s.a.d.i.s.t, and bitterly bewailed the fate of his unfortunate wives. Here again, a new, emotive, and subjective tradition emerged, and it was in such a climate that Agnes Strickland wrote her celebrated Lives of the Queens of England Lives of the Queens of England, a landmark work in itself and the product of much original research, but heavily influenced by Victorian moral and social codes. She too wrote of Anne Boleyn in the romantic tradition, and clearly viewed Henry VIII as unspeakably wicked. Nevertheless, her work, much enjoyed by Queen Victoria (to whom it was dedicated), heralded a revival of interest in the Tudor queens.

From about 1850 on, we move into the great period of historical research, when a large number of doc.u.ments were collated and published, many under the auspices of the Master of the Rolls. The monumental Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII was compiled, as were the foreign diplomatic calendars and the Tudor state papers, sources that are essential to our understanding of the period. This research prompted the publication of many history books with a fresh and a.n.a.lytical approach. The works of James Anthony Froude and Martin A. S. Hume achieved a more rational a.s.sessment of the history of Henry VIII's wives, while Paul Friedmann's was compiled, as were the foreign diplomatic calendars and the Tudor state papers, sources that are essential to our understanding of the period. This research prompted the publication of many history books with a fresh and a.n.a.lytical approach. The works of James Anthony Froude and Martin A. S. Hume achieved a more rational a.s.sessment of the history of Henry VIII's wives, while Paul Friedmann's Anne Boleyn: A Chapter of English History Anne Boleyn: A Chapter of English History (1884) debunked many of the romantic legends about its subject and portrayed her as a scheming adventuress. (1884) debunked many of the romantic legends about its subject and portrayed her as a scheming adventuress.

Froude felt that the unanimous verdict given by the peers and the grand juries proved that Anne must have committed at least some of the offenses with which she was charged. Friedmann was of the opinion that Cromwell was speaking the truth when he referred to Anne's coaccused confessing to things "so abominable that a great part of them were never given in evidence, but clearly kept secret,"10 and was "by no means convinced that Anne did not commit offenses quite as grave as those of which she was accused." He thought it possible that she was guilty "of crimes which it did not suit the convenience of the government to divulge." He added that this was hinted at during her trial, and was "by no means convinced that Anne did not commit offenses quite as grave as those of which she was accused." He thought it possible that she was guilty "of crimes which it did not suit the convenience of the government to divulge." He added that this was hinted at during her trial,11 "and although proof was not adduced, they were likely enough to have been true." It is an interesting theory, and would explain why the evidence against Anne was destroyed, as Friedmann believed, and why the charges in the indictment seem so obviously contrived. It would also explain the odd remark Anne made when she was told by Kingston that she would not be held in a dungeon but in the Queen's lodgings-"It is too good for me"-and her final confession, in which she declared she had never offended against the King with her body. Had she offended against him in some other way? "and although proof was not adduced, they were likely enough to have been true." It is an interesting theory, and would explain why the evidence against Anne was destroyed, as Friedmann believed, and why the charges in the indictment seem so obviously contrived. It would also explain the odd remark Anne made when she was told by Kingston that she would not be held in a dungeon but in the Queen's lodgings-"It is too good for me"-and her final confession, in which she declared she had never offended against the King with her body. Had she offended against him in some other way?

Yet what abominable offense could Anne have committed that had at all costs to be kept secret? Could it have been something that touched not only her honor but the King's too? Even if it had, Cromwell, that master of spin, could surely have turned it to Henry's advantage. If it was not a s.e.xual offense, as Anne's last confession would appear to make clear, what other crime could her coaccused have disclosed? There is no evidence of any, and given that the charges against Anne were sensitive enough in their nature, and that Cromwell's reference to secret abominations was probably meant to convey nothing more than unmentionable s.e.xual depravity, we can only conclude that Friedmann's theory does not bear close scrutiny.

The twentieth century witnessed an ever more impartial approach to research and historical interpretation, and the growth of post-Freudian a.n.a.lysis, with the historian evolving into a psychologist rather than a judge, which in itself led to some new conclusions, such as the theory that because of the executions of her mother and Katherine Howard, Elizabeth I grew up equating marriage and s.e.x with death, and consequently was too fearful to take a husband. Today, in the twenty-first century, a more rational and balanced approach prevails, yet it is rare to find a commentator who is devoid of all prejudice or preconception.

Because of the extreme polarity of Catholic and Protestant views of Anne Boleyn, the bias with which her contemporaries wrote of her, the romantic tradition, and the frustrating gaps in the source material for her life, she remains a controversial subject to this day. Rarely are historians entirely impartial about her. She is either a saint, a sinner, a wronged heroine, the feisty temptress beloved by filmmakers, or-more recently-the prime cause and mover of the Reformation, a view that would have been unthinkable forty years ago, and can be sweepingly overstated. Modern biographers increasingly tend to buy into the Protestant hagiographic view of Anne, a view supported only to a degree by contemporary evidence, and even now a religious bias is occasionally evident, as in the late Joanna Denny's anti-Catholic biography of her.

For centuries Anne's partisans have seen her as a wronged woman whose wicked husband had her murdered in order to marry her handmaiden. Of course, this is only half the picture, but it underpins many perceptions of Anne even today. In 2005 a former Battle of Britain veteran who had "fallen in love" with the Queen during history lessons at school, tried unsuccessfully to persuade the Home Secretary either to pardon her or, preferably, declare her innocent.

Serious historians are now fairly united in believing Anne guiltless of the crimes for which she died. John Scarisbrick found it "difficult to believe that she was ever guilty of adultery or incest." Professor Ives wrote stridently that "to substantiate nymphomania, incest, and quadruple adultery, there is no evidence worth the name,"12 while Anne Somerset has called Anne the victim of "a deadly combination of court intrigue and royal disfavor." while Anne Somerset has called Anne the victim of "a deadly combination of court intrigue and royal disfavor."13 Professor Loades is almost certainly correct in saying that she fell "because of the dynamics of court politics, and the fact that her power over the King was based on nothing more durable than s.e.xual chemistry." Professor Loades is almost certainly correct in saying that she fell "because of the dynamics of court politics, and the fact that her power over the King was based on nothing more durable than s.e.xual chemistry."14 There are few who have disagreed with this view. Back in 1902, A. F. Pollard felt that there must have been some "colorable justification" for the charges, but Professor Bernard is now virtually alone in suggesting that Anne was quite possibly guilty, yet perhaps not of all the crimes of which she was accused, and not with all the men alleged to have been her lovers. Ives, however, concedes that the case against her must have been plausible enough to convince those ninety-five jurors of her guilt.

In a.s.sessing Anne's character and impact on history, we should ask ourselves how she would be viewed today if she had not perished on the scaffold. Her end was one of the most dramatic and shocking episodes in English history, her last days the best doc.u.mented period of her life, vividly described in the sources, while that powerful image of her on the scaffold, courageously facing a horrible death, has overlaid all previous conceptions of her.

Had Anne survived into old age-setting aside all other ramifications of that "what if"-she might now be remembered merely as a ruthless "other woman" who got her man and proved to be a none too popular queen. Had she borne the King no son, and lived to see her daughter succeed-probably in the late 1540s, when Anne herself would have been in her own late forties-something approaching the hagiographic Protestant view of her, as the lauded Elizabeth's mother, would certainly have prevailed, at least in England. But it is virtually certain that, dying in her bed, she would not have enjoyed the charismatic, romantic posthumous reputation that is hers today.

Conversely, Henry VIII's reputation has undoubtedly suffered as a result of his treatment of Anne Boleyn, and there is a popular misconception-even among some serious historians-that he had her "murdered," even though she was executed in accordance with the law as it then stood. Sir Patrick Hastings, the former Attorney General, writing in 1950 about Anne Boleyn's "appalling trial," called Henry "one of the most unutterable blackguards who ever sat upon this or any other throne." Jane Dunn sees him as a "grotesque failure as a husband and father;" Linda Porter calls him "a wife murderer," and refers to the "obscene charade" of Anne's fall. Karen Lindsey, in her overimaginative feminist perspective on Henry VIII's wives, a.s.serts that Henry needed to kill Anne simply because he loathed her.

Eric Ives rightly draws attention to the oft-stated-and simplistic-view that if Anne was innocent, then Henry VIII, Cromwell, and many members of the Tudor establishment "contrived or connived at coldblooded murder."15 We have to remember that she was executed according to the due process of the law as it then stood. Virtually the whole of the establishment-the King, the Privy Council, the two grand juries, the twenty-six peers who sat in judgment at the trial, and the judges-not forgetting Parliament itself-all played their proper parts, and it may even be that the law was allowed to take its course without undue influence being brought to bear upon it. Certainly care was taken that the case be heard in public, and that some records of it were preserved for posterity to see. Because the depositions are missing, the Crown's case looks weak and contrived to modern eyes, but we can be certain there was more to it than the surviving sources reveal. According to Cromwell, some of the evidence was so "abominable" that it did not bear repet.i.tion in court, doubtless for the sake of the King's honor; he may have been exaggerating, but we just do not know. It is this lack of doc.u.mentation that hampers our understanding of why Anne Boleyn was condemned. Above all, there is no evidence that Henry VIII did not believe in Anne's guilt, and it is barely credible that he sent six victims unnecessarily to the scaffold merely to satisfy "a l.u.s.t for superfluous butchery," as N. Brysson Morrison put it. We have to remember that she was executed according to the due process of the law as it then stood. Virtually the whole of the establishment-the King, the Privy Council, the two grand juries, the twenty-six peers who sat in judgment at the trial, and the judges-not forgetting Parliament itself-all played their proper parts, and it may even be that the law was allowed to take its course without undue influence being brought to bear upon it. Certainly care was taken that the case be heard in public, and that some records of it were preserved for posterity to see. Because the depositions are missing, the Crown's case looks weak and contrived to modern eyes, but we can be certain there was more to it than the surviving sources reveal. According to Cromwell, some of the evidence was so "abominable" that it did not bear repet.i.tion in court, doubtless for the sake of the King's honor; he may have been exaggerating, but we just do not know. It is this lack of doc.u.mentation that hampers our understanding of why Anne Boleyn was condemned. Above all, there is no evidence that Henry VIII did not believe in Anne's guilt, and it is barely credible that he sent six victims unnecessarily to the scaffold merely to satisfy "a l.u.s.t for superfluous butchery," as N. Brysson Morrison put it.

David Loades believes that Henry was able to deceive himself into believing the charges, and that in the momentous events of 1536, he demonstrated for the first-and certainly not the last-time that his self-deception was "capable of taking the form of a monstrous and amoral cruelty."16 Yet if one accepts the case for self-deception, one also has to accept the populist modern view of Henry as Starkey's "great puppet" who was easily manipulated by clever advisers, a view effectively demolished more than thirty years ago by Lacey Baldwin Smith. Yet if one accepts the case for self-deception, one also has to accept the populist modern view of Henry as Starkey's "great puppet" who was easily manipulated by clever advisers, a view effectively demolished more than thirty years ago by Lacey Baldwin Smith.17 It is also worth remembering that Henry did not immediately accept at face value what his councillors told him about Anne's conduct, but insisted that they investigate further. It is also worth remembering that Henry did not immediately accept at face value what his councillors told him about Anne's conduct, but insisted that they investigate further.

Yet Professor Loades makes a valid point in response to Henry's detractors who accuse him simplistically of sending Anne to the scaffold on trumped-up charges merely because she no longer pleased him: had this been the case, why hadn't he meted out the same punishment to Katherine of Aragon, who defied him and was a constant thorn in his side for nine aggravating years?18 His life would have been far less complicated with Katherine safely dead. Of course, she had powerful relations abroad, while Anne had no one to fight for her. Nevertheless, Katherine could legitimately have been accused of inciting the King's subjects to rebellion, or her nephew-the Emperor-to make war on him, and charges of high treason could easily have been made to stick. No one could have complained about that, given that Katherine was betraying the man whom she staunchly insisted was her husband and her sovereign lord. This argues that Henry VIII did not lightly stoop to subverting the law to follow his own desires, and also that whatever evidence about Anne was laid before him, it must have been convincing. His life would have been far less complicated with Katherine safely dead. Of course, she had powerful relations abroad, while Anne had no one to fight for her. Nevertheless, Katherine could legitimately have been accused of inciting the King's subjects to rebellion, or her nephew-the Emperor-to make war on him, and charges of high treason could easily have been made to stick. No one could have complained about that, given that Katherine was betraying the man whom she staunchly insisted was her husband and her sovereign lord. This argues that Henry VIII did not lightly stoop to subverting the law to follow his own desires, and also that whatever evidence about Anne was laid before him, it must have been convincing.

Modern historians tend to view Cromwell's role in Anne's fall as "hideously corrupt," as Hester Chapman has noted, yet she makes the point that he was operating in a period when justice yielded to expediency, and, as the princ.i.p.al Secretary of State, saw his duty as cutting away "a malignant growth from the body politic." Taking this line of argument to its logical conclusion, those cooperating in Anne's destruction acted as loyal subjects, putting the needs of the kingdom first.

Helen Miller has said that if the King believed the charges against Anne, few others did. Yet, as has been demonstrated, the evidence shows that many at the time unquestioningly believed them. Had Elizabeth never succeeded to the throne, people might have continued to do so, and it might have been left to modern scholars.h.i.+p to rehabilitate Anne's reputation.

Notwithstanding all this, it is almost certain that there was a grievous miscarriage of justice. The circ.u.mstances of Anne's fall strongly suggest that she was framed; even her enemy Chapuys thought so. Nowadays, many historians would agree with David Loades that she was "the victim of a political coup of great skill and ruthlessness," which also destroyed her faction.19 Henry VIII virtually admitted as much when he told Jane Seymour that Anne had died "in consequence of meddling too much in state affairs." Henry VIII virtually admitted as much when he told Jane Seymour that Anne had died "in consequence of meddling too much in state affairs."20 In a.s.sessing the surviving evidence for and against her guilt, the truth becomes staggeringly clear. Against Anne, we have merely her own account of compromising conversations and familiarity with Norris, Weston, and Smeaton; reports of adverse testimony against her, with barely any details; and that odd remark-"It is too good for me"-about being lodged in the Queen's apartments, rather than in a dungeon, made when she was in great distress.

In her favor, there are a mult.i.tude of compelling factors: the fact that she was involved in a life-or-death power struggle with Cromwell; his admission to Chapuys that he "thought up and plotted" her fall; the incongruity of the charges, particularly that of plotting the King's death; the alteration of the dates in the Kent indictment; the discrepancies and illogicalities in both indictments; the striking absence of any evidence of Anne indulging in extramarital affairs during the three years of her queens.h.i.+p, and of any real proofs of infidelity; the fact that no female attendants (without whose cooperation Anne could not have contrived any illicit meetings with her "lovers") were arrested with her; the fact that four of her coaccused were convicted first, thus prejudicing her own trial; that crucial doc.u.ments are missing from the case records in the Baga de Secretis; Baga de Secretis; the superficial nature of the surviving evidence; the disbanding of Anne's household and the summoning of the executioner before her condemnation; the King telling Jane Seymour in advance that Anne would be condemned; Anne and others voicing the suspicion that there was some other reason for her fall than the crimes of which she was accused; her repeated denials of her guilt, and-above all-her last confession, in which, both before and after receiving the Holy Sacrament, she maintained her innocence. the superficial nature of the surviving evidence; the disbanding of Anne's household and the summoning of the executioner before her condemnation; the King telling Jane Seymour in advance that Anne would be condemned; Anne and others voicing the suspicion that there was some other reason for her fall than the crimes of which she was accused; her repeated denials of her guilt, and-above all-her last confession, in which, both before and after receiving the Holy Sacrament, she maintained her innocence.

In weighing up the evidence for and against her, the historian cannot but conclude that Anne Boleyn was the victim of a dreadful miscarriage of justice: and not only Anne and the men accused with her, but also the King himself, the Boleyn faction, and-saddest of all-Elizabeth, who was to bear the scars of it all her life. In the absence of any real proof of Anne's guilt, and with her conviction only on suspicious evidence, there must be a very strong presumption that she went to her death an innocent woman.

Norfolk legend claimed that Anne Boleyn's body was removed from the Tower at some stage and reburied near her ancestors beneath a plain black marble tombstone in Salle Church near Blickling Hall, where she was born.21 That was debunked, however, when the stone was lifted a few years ago and no remains were found beneath it. Early nineteenth-century tradition had it that a much smaller black slab in the ancient churchyard of the parish church at Horndon-on-the-Hill in Ess.e.x marked the place where her heart or her head had been buried, or that this was where her corpse rested overnight on its way to Salle. That was debunked, however, when the stone was lifted a few years ago and no remains were found beneath it. Early nineteenth-century tradition had it that a much smaller black slab in the ancient churchyard of the parish church at Horndon-on-the-Hill in Ess.e.x marked the place where her heart or her head had been buried, or that this was where her corpse rested overnight on its way to Salle.22 A similar legend is connected with an altar tomb in the churchyard of the disused Tudor church at East Horndon, Ess.e.x. A similar legend is connected with an altar tomb in the churchyard of the disused Tudor church at East Horndon, Ess.e.x.23 There are other legends that Anne's heart was stolen and hidden in a church near Thetford, Norfolk,24 or at Erwarton Church in Suffolk, where a heart-shaped tin casket was discovered in the chancel wall in 1836 or 1837, and reburied under the organ, beneath the Cornwallis memorial slab; even today, there is a notice in the church stating that it is on record that Anne's heart was buried in there by her uncle, Sir Philip Parker of Erwarton Hall. This is all highly unlikely, since heart burial had gone out of fas.h.i.+on in England by the end of the fourteenth century, while the uncle in question was in fact Sir Philip Calthorpe of Erwarton, who was married to Anne's aunt, Amata (or Amy) Boleyn, and died in 1549. Nevertheless, the legend is commemorated in the name of the local inn, the Queen's Head. or at Erwarton Church in Suffolk, where a heart-shaped tin casket was discovered in the chancel wall in 1836 or 1837, and reburied under the organ, beneath the Cornwallis memorial slab; even today, there is a notice in the church stating that it is on record that Anne's heart was buried in there by her uncle, Sir Philip Parker of Erwarton Hall. This is all highly unlikely, since heart burial had gone out of fas.h.i.+on in England by the end of the fourteenth century, while the uncle in question was in fact Sir Philip Calthorpe of Erwarton, who was married to Anne's aunt, Amata (or Amy) Boleyn, and died in 1549. Nevertheless, the legend is commemorated in the name of the local inn, the Queen's Head.

George Abbott, the Yeoman Warder who has written many books on the Tower of London, but does not in this instance quote his source, states that the vault in St. Peter ad Vincula, in which Anne had indisputably been buried, was opened, and its contents viewed, in the reign of her daughter Elizabeth I. However, there was no vault, because the executed persons who were laid to rest before the altar were all buried in the earth beneath the chancel pavement, as later excavations would prove. Thus the anonymous Tudor observer could not have described what he saw, only what he was told, probably by Tower officials. But since the burials had all taken place within living memory, the information he recorded is likely to have been fairly accurate: "The coffin of the Duke of Northumberland [executed for treason in 1554] rests besides that of the Duke of Somerset [executed 1552], between the coffins of the queens, Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard, and next unto these last is the coffin of Lady Jane Grey [executed 1554]. Then comes the coffins of Thomas Seymour, Lord of Sudeley [executed 1549], and of the Lady Rochford; and lastly that of George Boleyn, that was brother to Queen Anne-all beheaded."25 This suggests that Anne and her brother were buried at opposite ends of the vault, and that Lady Rochford was interred beside her husband. In the same period, the chronicler John Stow famously recorded, "There lieth before the high altar in St. Peter's Church two dukes between two queens." This suggests that Anne and her brother were buried at opposite ends of the vault, and that Lady Rochford was interred beside her husband. In the same period, the chronicler John Stow famously recorded, "There lieth before the high altar in St. Peter's Church two dukes between two queens."

In 1876, Queen Victoria approved the restoration of the dilapidated royal chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula in the Tower, but only on condition that any disturbed remains be treated with the utmost reverence and that a careful record should be kept of any evidence that might aid identification. Before work began, it was noted that there was no memorial to mark the place where Anne Boleyn was buried.26 In November of that year, excavations beneath the sunken altar pavement commenced, revealing the remains of most of the executed persons, some apparently still in the places they occupied three centuries earlier. The excavation committee did not know for certain where the bodies of the Tudor victims had actually been interred. One of its six members, Doyne Bell, drew up a plan "showing the relative positions in which it was believed that these persons had originally been buried." He did this "after consulting various historical authorities," although he did not specify which ones. In fact, apart from Stow, there was no other reliable source he could have consulted, aside from the Elizabethan observer, and Bell's plan27 shows that he did not see that. Hence it was highly speculative, and inaccurate. shows that he did not see that. Hence it was highly speculative, and inaccurate.

Worthy attempts were made to identify the remains. A heap of bones carefully arranged and a.s.sumed to be Anne Boleyn's, and found only two feet below the chancel floor "in the place where [she] is said to have been buried," were thought to have been disturbed and disarrayed in 1750, when the lead coffin of one Hannah Beresford was buried two feet beneath them.28 The skeleton a.s.sumed to be Anne Boleyn's was examined by a surgeon on the committee, Dr. Frederic Mouat, and described by Bell, both of whom were present at the exhumation. It comprised the bones of "a female of between twenty-five and thirty years of age, of a delicate frame of body, and who had been of slender and perfect proportions; the forehead and lower jaw were especially well-formed. The vertebrae were particularly small." The committee thought that this bore witness to Anne Boleyn's "little neck." The skeleton a.s.sumed to be Anne Boleyn's was examined by a surgeon on the committee, Dr. Frederic Mouat, and described by Bell, both of whom were present at the exhumation. It comprised the bones of "a female of between twenty-five and thirty years of age, of a delicate frame of body, and who had been of slender and perfect proportions; the forehead and lower jaw were especially well-formed. The vertebrae were particularly small." The committee thought that this bore witness to Anne Boleyn's "little neck."29 This female had "a well-formed round skull, intellectual forehead, straight orbital ridge, large eyes, oval face, and rather square, full chin. The remains of the vertebrae and the bones of the lower limbs indicate a well-formed woman of middle height, with a short and slender neck. The hand and feet bones indicate delicate and well-shaped hands and feet, with tapering fingers and a narrow foot." There was no evidence of a sixth fingernail, as described by George Wyatt. Judging from the vertebrae, Dr. Mouat estimated the woman's height to have been "five feet, or five feet three inches, not more." This female had "a well-formed round skull, intellectual forehead, straight orbital ridge, large eyes, oval face, and rather square, full chin. The remains of the vertebrae and the bones of the lower limbs indicate a well-formed woman of middle height, with a short and slender neck. The hand and feet bones indicate delicate and well-shaped hands and feet, with tapering fingers and a narrow foot." There was no evidence of a sixth fingernail, as described by George Wyatt. Judging from the vertebrae, Dr. Mouat estimated the woman's height to have been "five feet, or five feet three inches, not more."

Dr. Mouat confidently opined that the bones all belonged to the same person, and had lain in the earth for upward of three hundred years, and voiced his opinion that these remains were "all consistent with the published descriptions of Queen Anne Boleyn, and the bones of the skull might well belong to the person portrayed in the painting by Holbein in the collection of the Earl of Warwick."30 Setting aside for a moment the question of age, Anne's authenticated portraits all show her as having a pointed chin, not a square one, while-as has been noted-no painting of her by Holbein is known to have survived. The portrait of Anne at Warwick Castle is an eighteenth-century copy in oils of Holbein's sketch of a lady who was not identified as Anne until 1649, which is discussed in the Appendix; other versions of the Warwick portrait are at Hever Castle and Hatfield House. Even today these are still believed to portray Anne Boleyn.

We do not know how tall Anne Boleyn was. The hostile Nicholas Sander, writing fifty years after her death, called her "rather tall of stature," but his account is in many ways suspect. Only one eyewitness description of the Queen survives, that of Francesco Sanuto, a Venetian diplomat, who described her as being "of middling height,"31 which, in Tudor times as in the Victorian age, might have meant rather shorter than we would interpret "middling height" today. But Sanuto also refers to her having a "long neck," whereas the neck of the skeleton in the Tower was described as short. which, in Tudor times as in the Victorian age, might have meant rather shorter than we would interpret "middling height" today. But Sanuto also refers to her having a "long neck," whereas the neck of the skeleton in the Tower was described as short.

More to the point, four other decapitated females were buried in the chancel in Tudor times: Katherine Howard, Henry VIII's fifth wife, age between sixteen and twenty-three, depending on which evidence for her age one accepts; Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, aged sixty-eight; Lady Jane Grey, age probably seventeen; and Lady Rochford, whose age at death is unknown, but who was of marriageable age (twelve or over) in 1524, and was thus born in 1512 at the latest. Forensic science was not exact in the Victorian age, and Dr. Mouat's estimates of the ages of the deceased could have been inaccurate. It is just possible that the bones thought to be Anne Boleyn's-the diminutive slender female with a square jaw-actually belonged to Katherine Howard, miniatures of whom by Holbein show her with what could be a jutting square jaw.

It is interesting to note that close by the remains of the Duke of Northumberland, in the place where Katherine Howard was thought to have been laid to rest-and whose remains were supposedly not found at all (and were thought either to have dissolved in the quicklime found in the graves or to have decomposed into dust)-parts of the disarrayed skeletons of two woman were found. It was thought that they were moved there in the eighteenth century to make room for other burials.

One female, much advanced in years, was almost certainly Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, who was beheaded in 1541 at the age of sixty-seven. The other skeleton was thought by Dr. Mouat to have been that of a woman of "rather delicate proportions," of "about thirty to forty years of age, [but] probably forty years of age." This female was "of larger frame" than Katherine, who had been "a very little girl," according to one French amba.s.sador. Surely these bones belonged to Anne Boleyn, whose age at death has now been credibly established as thirty-five, not twenty-nine, as the Victorians believed. It therefore follows that the two dukes, Somerset and Northumberland, were indeed buried between two queens, but that the queens were in opposite positions to the ones in which they were thought by the committee to have been laid to rest.

In April 1877 all the skeletons and bones-except the remains of Lord Rochford, Thomas Seymour and Lady Jane Grey, which had not been disturbed32-were reverently laid in individual leaden coffers, which were screwed down and placed inside oaken outer coffins one inch thick, these being sealed with copper screws. A lead plaque bearing the name and arms of the person thought to be inside was affixed to the lid of each coffin, and all were decently reburied in the place where they were found, just four inches beneath the altar pavement. This was then concreted over and laid with decorative octagonal memorial slabs of green, red, and white marble in a mosaic design, each having a border of yellow Sienna marble and the names and armorial crests of the deceased.33 The remains in the chancel were replaced in the order in which they were found, with the two dukes between the two queens, although these burials do not correspond to the memorial slabs. Presumably a s.p.a.ce was left beneath the place where Katherine Howard's "vanished" remains were supposed to lie. However, the partial skeleton of the woman that had been found there, and which-given the fact that other bones were mistakenly identified as Anne Boleyn's in 1876-no one thought to be of great significance, was buried as Lady Rochford.34 Thus, we can be almost certain that Anne's memorial stone does not mark the last resting place of her actual remains, and that she lies beneath Lady Rochford's memorial. Thus, we can be almost certain that Anne's memorial stone does not mark the last resting place of her actual remains, and that she lies beneath Lady Rochford's memorial.

The Victorian historian Thomas Babington Macaulay, referring to the chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, famously wrote: There is no sadder spot on Earth. Death is there a.s.sociated, not, as in Westminster and St. Paul's, with genius and virtue, with public veneration and imperishable renown; not, as in our humblest churches and churchyards, with everything that is most endearing in social and domestic charities: but with whatever is darkest in human nature and in human destiny; with the savage triumph of implacable enemies, with the inconstancy, the ingrat.i.tude, the cowardice of friends, with all the miseries of fallen greatness and of blighted fame. Thither have been carried through successive ages, by the rude hands of gaolers, without one mourner following, the bleeding relics of the captains of armies, the leaders of parties, and the ornaments of courts.

Each year, since at least the 1960s, on the anniversary of Anne Boleyn's execution, a bunch of red roses-such as appear on her coat of arms-has been delivered anonymously to the Tower, with a request that it be placed on her memorial. The flowers, sent by a shop in London on the instructions of an undisclosed firm of trustees, are always accompanied by a card bearing only the dedication Queen Anne Boleyn 1536 Queen Anne Boleyn 1536. This request is complied with by the Yeoman Warders, who lay the flowers on Anne's grave and only remove them when they have withered.35 Anne Boleyn might have died in ignominy, but she left, all unwittingly, a rich heritage in her infant daughter, the child who grew up reluctant to speak her name, and who so nearly met the same fate as her mother.

Significantly, after complying with tradition and spending a week in the Tower palace prior to her coronation, Elizabeth I never stayed there again. The place held too many terrible memories of her imprisonment there in 1554, and of her mother's fate. She may well have been thinking of Anne as well as her own past experiences when, reining her horse to a standstill as she arrived at the Tower on that January day in 1559, she announced to the watching crowds, "Some have fallen from being princes of this land to be prisoners in this place. I am raised from being a prisoner in this place to be a prince of this land. That dejection was a work of G.o.d's justice. This advancement is a work of His mercy." One can sense the elation in her words, for she had overcome much, starting with the loss of her mother and her b.a.s.t.a.r.dy, to achieve her throne. This was Anne Boleyn's great legacy to England: her daughter, the great Virgin Queen, Elizabeth. How she would have gloried in and enjoyed Elizabeth's triumph.

APPENDIX.

LegendsLegends about Anne abound. Her ghost has long been reported in at least a dozen places. At Blickling Hall in Norfolk, the house in which she was probably born around 1501, the specter of her father, Thomas Boleyn, seated in a coach drawn by headless horses and driven by a headless coachman, has been reportedly seen on many occasions. The legend has the coach racing along country lanes to the door, followed by a blue light or screaming devils, or sometimes by a headless male corpse, said to be that of Lord Rochford, which is itself sometimes supposed to be dragged across hedges and ditches by four headless horses. This tale was probably well established by the eighteenth century.According to some late Victorian versions, it is Anne herself who occupies the coach, dressed all in white and bathed in a red glow; she sits there headless, holding her bleeding head on her lap. Some have claimed that as soon as this spectral vision reaches the door of the hall, it vanishes; others a.s.sert that Anne alights and walks through every room of the house. A tradition grew up over the years that it made its appearance every year on May 19, the anniversary of her execution.By 1850 superst.i.tious country folk were claiming that Thomas Boleyn was condemned-as punishment for having connived at his daughter's fall-to drive his coach and horses once a year, for a thousand years from his death in 1539, over the twelve-or forty, according to later versions-bridges that lie between Wroxham and Blickling, including those at Belaugh, Coltishall, Hautbois, Aylsham, and Burgh. It was said he carried his head, its tangled hair matted with blood, under his arm, and flames shot from his mouth while performing this annual ritual, which is somewhat strange, as he died in his bed.1 It was also once said that anyone witnessing this coach would immediately be dragged down to h.e.l.l. Despite this dire prediction, in 1940, Christina Hale, a member of the English Folklore Society, wrote that "the occupants of the house are so used to this annual appearance that they take no notice of it," It was also once said that anyone witnessing this coach would immediately be dragged down to h.e.l.l. Despite this dire prediction, in 1940, Christina Hale, a member of the English Folklore Society, wrote that "the occupants of the house are so used to this annual appearance that they take no notice of it,"2 although around that time the wife of the head gardener confessed she could never go to sleep on