Showing posts with label English Reformation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English Reformation. Show all posts

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts.

By E.M. Powell

The word manuscript literally means ‘written by hand’ and medieval manuscripts refers to those books produced in Europe between about the fifth century and the late fifteenth century. Illuminated manuscripts are works which are decorated with a variety of pictures and ornamentation.

Psalm 27 from the Vespasian Psalter- 8th Century Kent.
It is the earliest surviving English biblical example of an initial with a narrative scene.

The word ‘illuminated’ comes from a usage of the Latin word illuminare in the sense of its meaning ‘to adorn’. Burnished gold was often used in the decorating of books from the 13th century onwards but the term ‘illuminated’ does not only apply to manuscripts where gold or silver is used. It applies more broadly to any manuscript that is more elaborately decorated than with simple coloured initials.

From the early writings of Saint Jerome (who died c.420) to around 1100, the vast majority of manuscripts were produced in the scriptoria or cloisters of abbeys and monasteries. They were primarily theological, liturgical and academic works.

The Lindisfarne Gospels- 8th Century
Written & illustrated probably by Eadfrith, bishop of Lindisfarne.

Prior to the time of Saint Jerome, manuscripts (such as those produced in Rome) were in scroll format and made of papyrus. The use of papyrus is problematic in that, as a material, it is more likely to break, especially if it is handled frequently. Early medieval scribes moved to the use of prepared animal skin, the material that we refer to as parchment or vellum. The format also underwent a significant change to that of the book or codex, with separate pages that can be turned, read in sequence and much more easily navigated by a reader.

Initial from the Howard Psalter & Hours- England,1310 -1320.
Clerics sing from a scroll, which contains musical notation. 

The codex didn’t only make life easier for readers. It also improved the lot of those who wrote and illustrated the manuscripts—our medieval scribes. It is much easier to write on the flat, stable surface of a page than on a lengthy, unrolled scroll. But it’s probably fair to say the ‘easier’ is a relative term. Even the preparation was laborious and demanded perfection. Producing fine vellum involved the soaking in lime and skilled, meticulous scraping and stretching of expensive calfskin. Inks such as oak gall and lampblack had to be produced. Guide lines had to be ruled with absolute precision.

Book of Hours- Oxford, 1240, written in & illuminated by William de Brailes.
It is the earliest surviving English Book of Hours.

Note that such precision also had to be achieved using a feather quill pen. Quill pens were introduced around the sixth century and replaced the reed pen. They were most commonly made from the flight feathers of geese but could also be made from swan, duck, crow, or even pelicans and peacocks. Most of the feather was removed and the end sharpened and slit so it could be filled with ink.  The sharpening of the nib was done at different angles, which would make pen strokes of differing thickness. Such careful nib-work didn’t last long. A scribe would have to trim it frequently with a quill-cutter to keep its sharpness.

A seated scribe from the Life of St Dunstan.
Canterbury- late 11th/early 12th Century

All that before the most challenging and skilled task of all: the writing and illustrating of the text. One can only deeply admire the concentration, dedication and sheer physical toll it must have taken, with scribes having no reading glasses, no electric light and no modern heating through freezing and damp winters.

The fruits of their labours, that are the decorations on medieval illuminated manuscripts, are of three main types. First, larger illustrations that can take up a whole page and /or miniatures or small pictures incorporated into the text. These usually illustrate or complement the content of the text.

A map of the whole known world from Ranulf Higden’s Polychronicon.
England, last quarter of the 14th century.

The second type are initial letters that contain scenes (known as historiated initials) or that have elaborate decoration. Again, these usually illustrate or complement the content of the text.

Historiated initial 'D'(omine) with a crowned Virgin and Child.
English Book of Hours, 1st quarter of the 15th century.

Third, we have borders and line-endings, which may have many detailed images/miniatures in them. These often do not relate directly to the text and can contain unusual figures.

Marginal illustration from the Gorleston Psalter- Norfolk, early 14th century.
How much do we love the medieval duck? 

And while the illuminations could serve to illustrate or to decorate, they also provided aids for contemplation and meditation for those reading them as part of their daily prayer and devotion. On another (very practical) level, the illustrations were useful markers for less literate readers to be able to navigate a lengthy manuscript. One does not have to be able to read to identify a picture of the Virgin Mary or one of the story of Adam and Eve.

Four scenes from the Book of Genesis, with three of Adam & Eve.
The Huth Psalter, England, late 13th century.

Although so many wonderful works were produced by men (and women) of the church, by 1100 this situation began to change. The production of manuscripts was no longer the preserve of the church, and secular scribes and illustrators rose in importance. This was in part due to the expansion of the content of manuscripts. Romances, chronicles, medical and other texts and aristocratic family trees all began to be produced. The rise of the universities and the increase in book ownership by the wealthy saw a thriving secular book trade in Paris and Bologna by the 13th century.

Guinevere questioning Lancelot about his love for her.
Lancelot du Lac, France, c.1316.

It was another university city, the city of Cologne, that was to trigger the start of the demise of the manuscript. By the 1470s Cologne had become the most important centre of printing in north-west Germany and where a certain William Caxton was perfecting his own particular art. Handwritten texts were being replaced by the printed version.

From the Arnstein Bible, a large two-volume MS, Germany c. 1172.
It was written by a single scribe, a monk named Lunandus.

But it was English Reformation that was to see the wanton destruction of the illuminated manuscript. Henry VIII decreed that the 'images and pictures' of Saint Thomas Becket shall 'through the whole realm be put down and avoided out of all churches, chapels, and other places.’ The Act against Superstitious Books and Images (1550) ordered that prayer and service books that did not comply with the reformed liturgy should be destroyed. The religious communities did their best to keep their handwritten treasures safe. Books were smuggled out of religious houses and hidden in sympathetic homes. But not all could be saved. Priceless manuscripts were torn up, burned, used to clean candlesticks, clean boots, stop up beer barrels and even deployed in the privies.

The martyrdom of Thomas Becket from the Harley collection-
a rare survival in an English context.
Netherlands, 3rd quarter of the 15th century.
           

Yet despite all of this appalling vandalism, medieval manuscripts have preserved for posterity the lion’s share of medieval painting. As Beal so beautifully puts it: ‘Books have a knack of surviving.’ It is our great good fortune that they do.


Detail of marginal images of apes with books.
France, 1318-1330.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
References:
All images are in the Public Domain and are part of the British Library's Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts. (This online resource is truly a treasure trove and I cannot recommend it highly enough.)
Beal, Peter, A Dictionary of English Manuscript Terminology 1450–2000: Oxford University Press, Current Online Version. (2011)
Brigstocke, Hugh, The Oxford Companion to Western Art: Oxford University Press, Current Online Version (2003)
Chilvers, Ian, The Oxford Dictionary of Art and Artists (4 ed.): Oxford University Press, Current Online Version (2014)
De Hamel, Christopher, A History of Illuminated Manuscripts (2nd ed.), London: Phaidon Press Ltd. (1994).
Kerr, Julie: Life in the Medieval Cloister, London, Continuum Publishing (2009)
Whittock, Martyn, A Brief History of Life in the Middle Ages: London, Constable & Robinson (2009)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
E.M. Powell’s medieval thrillers THE FIFTH KNIGHT and THE BLOOD OF THE FIFTH KNIGHT have been #1 Amazon bestsellers and a Bild bestseller in Germany. Book #3 in the series, THE LORD OF IRELAND, about John’s failed campaign in Ireland was published by Thomas & Mercer on April 5 2016. Born and raised in the Republic of Ireland into the family of Michael Collins (the legendary revolutionary and founder of the Irish Free State), she now lives in northwest England with her husband, daughter and a Facebook-friendly dog. As well as blogging and editing for EHFA, she is a contributing editor to International Thriller Writers The Big Thrill magazine, reviews fiction & non-fiction for the Historical Novel Society and is part of the HNS Social Media Team. Find out more by visiting www.empowell.com.

Find her books on:
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Friday, May 29, 2015

To Catch a Priest

by Linda Root

Wikimedia Commons

A group of country folk were walking down a coastal road
north of London when they saw a stranger approaching.  Citizens in the area had been warned to be on the looked for unfamiliar faces.  Elizabeth Tudor’s spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham’s agents in Paris had sent an alarming message.  Jesuits were coming.  The farmers decided the current warnings could not possibly apply to the gentleman on the road.

And he indeed was a fine gentleman. He was a tall, swarthy man still in his youth, possessed of an aristocrat’s bearing and attitude. He was well groomed and dressed, although his cloak and boots were dusty as if he’d been on the road longer than customary. The poor man was obviously distressed.  He must be lost, the farmers thought.

"Have any of you good people seen my hawk?" he asked with a tremor in his voice. "I must have strayed too far from our usual surroundings and now my poor bird is gone missing."

It was not an unusual for members of the upper class to be as emotionally attached to their hawks as they were to their hunting dogs. In rural England, falconry was a favored sport of young aristocrats. It was rumored the Queen of Scots engaged in falconry from the balustrades while detained at Chatsworth. Much training was involved hunting with a falcon. Over time, a special bond formed between the handler and the hawk. No wonder the man was distraught. "Are ye sure ye have not heard its little bell?"

The farmers assured him they had not seen a hawk or heard the tinkling of a bell. With considerable empathy, they watched the man leave the road and wander off into the woods, desperately calling his bird. They had just encountered John Gerard, S.J., coming back to his English homeland after having been ordained. They would not be the only group to meet up with him and let him go merrily on his way.

I had never heard of John Gerard until I was adding finishing touches to my work-in-progress. The novel interjects a fictional Scottish aspect into the Gunpowder Treason. A mystery surrounding the accountability of Lord Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, for allowing the plot to remain undetected until the Eleventh Hour sent me exploring the impact of the conspiracy on the  Jesuit mission to England.

Almost any historical novelist lured into that last wee bit of clarifying research before declaring a novel finished will have faced the dilemma created by a pestiferous fact challenging the novel’s premise.  Do we go on, or do we set the current work aside and begin anew, perhaps with an entirely different story?  What action should be taken when just before we type the words ‘c’est fin’, we uncloak a larger than life character whose exploits tarnish our protagonist? While we are not historians and can invoke the principle of artistic license and continue, it is often difficult to put the new character aside.  The word that comes to mind is ‘sequel.’

Questioned portrait of Father Gerard-PD Art

I was well into my  recent work In the Shadow of the Gallows, featuring Daisy Kirkcaldy and her husband, Will Hepburn, when I realized the priest I had written into the story sounded incredibly like the Jesuit John Gerard of my research, one of the few Jesuits of the English mission who survived the aftermath of November 5, 1605. The more I wrote, the larger his part in the tale became until I faced the prospect of marketing a tome. In today’s market, a historical novel the size of the Los Angeles Metropolitan telephone directory is doomed. The solution was to shave his role into something manageable and promise myself to do justice to his exploits in my next book in the series. In my case, I call it Deliverance of the Lamb.

Fortunately, in dealing with Father Gerard, there is a plethora of material on which to base a sequel. After his final flight from England in May 1606, a high-ranking Jesuit recognized the potential of using his life story as a recruitment tool.  Gerard was ordered to document his life story in writing. The original was written in Latin, but it has since been translated into English and embellished with excellent notes. Anyone who fears an autobiography written by a cleric in 1611 will be tedious drivel is in for a shock.

The Autobiography of a HUNTED PRIEST reads very much like a prize-winning well-researched historical novel.  Not being a Catholic or having much of a religious bent, I had no idea I was opening a page-turner or that Gerard was one of history’s most notable escape artists.  Research the topic of great escapes and you will find his escape from the Tower of London on the list.

No undisputed likeness of John Gerard survives.  The one shown above has recently been questioned.. However, there are three similar descriptions in his biography. Putting the accounts together, one can surmise he was exceptionally tall, very dark complected with long black hair, dark eyes and a manicured mustachio, and a stylish patch of facial hair on his chin.  Accounts of his phenomenal successes in converting aristocratic women suggests we can comfortably add the descriptors handsome and charismatic to his attributes.

A second work written by Gerard is an essay entitled The Condition of Catholics Under James I: Father Gerard’s narrative of the Gunpowder Plot. Not only is it a comprehensive critique of the Gunpowder Treason from a  Catholic point of view, and hence a bit of an apology, but it also reveals much of the author’s character. It is not as readable as the beautifully translated and edited Hunted Priest, but it is a compelling source, and its Kindle version is free of charge.

Perusing Father Gerard’s works and others writings about Early Jacobean England, a thumbnail sketch of Gerard’s colorful life emerges. Most sources place his birth in the autumn of 1564.  His father had been knighted for acts of valor and was the respected Sheriff of Lancashire. Later, however, the senior Gerard was imprisoned in the Tower for participating in one of many schemes to free the Queen of Scots.   His popularity earned him a favorable disposition of the charges.

Young John Gerard matriculated at Oxford at age eleven, but when he was asked to make a Declaration of Faith and renounce the Catholic religion to continue, he withdrew.  Surprisingly, he obtained permission from an Anglican bishop to continue his studies abroad. He headed to the Jesuit College in Douai, the institution founded by the militant activist Cardinal William Allen, the man behind the Jesuit mission to England.

When the establishment moved to Rheims in 1578, John Gerard went with it. He was still far too young to be inducted into the Society of Jesus.   Quite incidentally, the timing of his three-year stay in Rheims fits perfectly into my plotline for Deliverance of the Lamb.

He began his mission to England in 1582.

Like all Catholic priests of his day, he was aware of the risks involved if he were identified as a priest.  Early during his mission he spent a year in Marshalsea prison, which left him not the least dismayed.  He had plenty of time to study while confined. Eventually, he was bailed by none other than Anthony Babington of the infamous Babington Plot, a plan designed to place Marie Stuart on the English throne. Gerard's life story is filled with names of aristocrats associated with plots to supplant Elizabeth with her Catholic cousin Marie Stuart. Elizabeth’s fears were more than paranoid delusions.

It helps to remember that until the second quarter of the 16th Century, England had been a Catholic country led by the Pope’s Defender of the Faith, King Henry the Eighth.  The popular mid-Twentieth century adage, You Cannot Legislate Morality applied then as now.

After he was bailed out of jail by Babington, Gerard jumped parole and returned to Europe and eventually settled in Rome.  He was still young to be inducted into the Jesuit order but after a period of accelerated but rigorous study under Cardinal Allen's oversight, he was ordained and ordered to proceed to London. This is the journey north to Paris and the coast which was observed by  Walsingham's spies. He and three other priests including his good friend Father Oldecorne eventually boarded a ship headed for the English coast. They did not disembark until they were north of London, where Gerard predicted matters would be quiet.  However, the Watchers were on the lookout.  To be less obvious, the group split up.  While the incident described earlier went well, a few days later he encountered a patrol and was taken into custody.  At the time, Gerard told a convincing story to the men who detained him and charmed his way out of it.

Many of his encounters follow a similar script.  His good breeding, physical attributes and persuasive words got him out of one fix after another.  On several occasions, appearing before magistrates who had known his father helped.

Henry Garnet, S.J. (Wikimedia)
Soon he was in London hoping to meet Father Henry Garnet, the Superior Jesuit in England. First, he made friends with a Catholic aristocrat who took him into his fine house in Grimston. The man's Protestant brother was curious as to his background, but Gerard's gentlemanly habits assuaged any fears of unwittingly harboring a priest. Gerard used his good manners and his knowledge of falconry and other indicia of membership in the gentry to convince others he was a high-born Englishman touring his country. However, to those who needed his intercession with their God, he abandoned his disguise.  The services he rendered in bringing peace to the many troubled families caught up in the Reformation earned him steadfast friends who were willing to risks their lives to keep him free.  While he did not seek rewards, he accepted them graciously as a means of supporting the lifestyle that kept his true vocation a secret.  The Watchers and Pursuivants were not seeking out well-heeled aristocrats, complete with servants and fine horses. They were looking in hidey holes and secret rooms for impoverished, starving priests.

During the latter days of Elizabeth’s rule, Gerard moved from one host household to another, converting many and sending some of the young men abroad to the Jesuit College. He sent one of the executed Earl of Northumberland's daughters to his friend Father Holt in Belgium. She later became a founder of the English Benedictine convent in Brussels which figures in the plot of my novel 1603: The Queen's Revenge.



((PublicDomain,-Art-US))

Gerard's exploits included a stay in the Tower of London in 1597 where he was tortured for his refusal to lead them to his Superior Father Garnet. Even the account of his suffering has its dramatic twist. His height complicated matters for his tormenters. When they hung him from the ceiling of the torture room by chaining his hands to a pole suspended between the two highest of the hooks, his toes still reached the floor. His abusers had to use shovels to dig a pit to make the device effective.

The Salt Tower- courtesy Richard Nevell
What is more, their tactics failed. His escape from the notorious Tower is well remembered.  Different versions appear on almost every list of famous escapes and prison breaks. He did it by employing remarkable charm, an innovative flight plan, a healthy dose of personal ingenuity and a bit of derring-do. He made friends with an inmate John Arden in another tower by passing notes written in orange juice. He made fast friends with his jailor who helped them pass information to friends on the outside.  The jailor provided a rope to use to climb down the out wall and toss across the moat. Finally, the two escapees and their jailor made it to a spot on the Thames where the jailor had a dinghy hidden.  They rowed to a prearranged rendezvous with Gerard's friends. He was never taken into custody again during the remaining several years of his mission in England.

During the remainder of his mission, he did not spend his time in hidey-holes like so many of his counterparts. He played the role of an aristocrat too well to resort to secret rooms and false cabinets to keep him free.  He was a master at hiding in plain sight. At the time of the Gunpowder Treason, he had been living in the Strand.

Midway through his autobiography, a student of early Jacobean history will recognize familiar names in the footnotes. Gerard described his friends but never named them in the original Latin text.  Gerard was far too wily to kiss and tell.  The single noteworthy exception is in several references to Everhard Digby, one of the plotters who came into the conspiracy in the middle stages. For years, he had been among John Gerard’s closest friends.  The intensity of their relationship is the one point which makes Gerard's disclaimer of guilty knowledge of the conspiracy disingenuous.

In discussing the Gunpowder Treason, there is no doubt where Gerard's passions lay. He empathized with the men involved and considered their deaths acts of martyrdom.  Although he believed their grievances were legitimate, he did not endorse the violence, and he did not know the details until the plan was in motion. He did not join their conspiracy, but he was not blind to the emotions driving it.  While at least two other Jesuits knew what was planned, they had received their information under seal of the confessional. Had he been caught, he would not have the sanctity of the Confessional as a defense, for whatever good it might have done.

After the Gunpowder Plot was uncovered, Jesuits were fair game, even though they had not been active in it.  Cecil used the event to launch a purge. At least four former Catholics who knew members of the English mission offered their services to Cecil, one of whom was a woman whose husband was in exile. She was anxious to get her lands and privileges restored, and offered to deliver Gerard. When the house where he was staying came under scrutiny, she arrived with the pursuivants, waving a king’s warrant in her hand. On that occasion, Gerard’s escape was less spectacular than his Tower breakout. He withdrew into a secret room with a scant supply of water and a jar of rich preserves. He stayed there under unhealthy circumstances for nine days before the searchers moved on.

Other women--especially Ann and Elizabeth Vaux, risked their lives to help Gerard and others escape.  The celebrated recusant Elizabeth Vaux was taken to London and interrogated as to Gerard's whereabouts and remained defiant.  By then, others of Gerard’s associates including his superior Father Henry Garnet had been apprehended.


The Discovery of Father Garnet and Father Oldecorne
((PD-Art))

After her release, Elizabeth Vaux made certain Father Gerard had everything he needed to subsist until an escape could be arranged. She offered to finance his flight to the tune of five thousand florins and gifted Gerard a thousand florins in travel money.

Gerard’s last escape was brilliant, but likely he had little to do with its planning. It appears to have been arranged by people with rank and  power in the Spanish Netherlands or France.  He left the country of his birth disguised as a manservant in the entourage of the Spanish Ambassador and a diplomat sent by the Hapsburg co-rulers of the Spanish Netherlands, Albert and Isabella Clara. The Dutchman had been in London setting the ground rules for peace negotiations between England and the Hapsburgs scheduled for later in the year 1606. Shortly before they were scheduled to board ship, the Spanish Ambassador balked, but on the morning of May 3, he rethought his position and welcomed Gerard  into the group of departing dignitaries, playing the part of a footman. The ship set sail on the day of his mentor Father Henry Garnet's suffering.

 Father Gerard remained an active Jesuit engaged in the education of seminarians and the spiritual preparation of novitiates, and he was the first Rector of a Jesuit House of philosophy and theology at Liege.  Later he returned to Flanders to take a similar position in Ghent, supervising the newly ordained during their year of probation.  In the last ten years of his life,  he served as confessor to the English College in Rome. He died there in 1637, one of the few survivors of Lord Robert Cecil's purge.  Since the annexation of Rome to the Italian State, the Collegio Roma is now houses the Italian Ministry of Heritage and Culture.

Collegio Roma-Wikimedia Commons
His autobiography is a gem, filled with anecdotes and what modern readers might call 'war stories' told with a light touch that captivates and entertains. It is a small wonder he was successful as a recruiter. What I have reported is but a small sampling of a life even the best historical novelist would be hard pressed to surpass.

I plan to enjoy assisting Father John Gerard’s escape in The Deliverance of the Lamb, which, God willing, I will have ready to launch by the end of the year.  I invite his spirit to guide me in my endeavors. I can hear his ghost whispering as I write, ‘Greetings, Madame. The name’s Gerard. John Gerard.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Linda Root
Amazon


Monday, March 17, 2014

Holding Winchester Cathedral in My Hand

By Nancy Bilyeau

The story of Winchester Cathedral is hard to tell.

Too old, too enormous, too awe-inspiring—how is it possible to do it justice in a book, never mind a single blog post? And yet, I will try, because for me, the magnificence of the cathedral is never more inspiring than when I hold a dark, wooden, four-inch-long cross in my hand. This cross was part of the foundation of the building, below the ground.

Foundation Cross

Before I explain how a piece of Winchester Cathedral came into my possession, let me tell the stories of two men, separated by a millennium.


The first was Walkelin, a cousin and royal chaplain to William the Conqueror. On May 30th, 1070, Walkelin was consecrated as the first Norman bishop of Winchester. He turned his critical French eye on the cathedral.

Christianity was in its infancy in the Saxon royal family when in the 7th century Cenwalh, son of Cynegils, built the first church, small and cross-shaped, in Winchester. It became known as Old Minster, and it grew as the city grew.

According to Bell's Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Winchester:  "To attempt to trace the story of the city as well as that of the cathedral would be to recapitulate the most important facts of the history of England during those centuries when Winchester was its capital town." The Wessex kings were buried there, as well as Emma of Normandy, the wife to two kings, who I am obsessed with after reading Patricia Bracewell's Shadow on the Crown.

But Walkelin wanted a do-over.

Statue of Walkelin

The Norman bishop became as obsessed with building his own cathedral as Prior Philip in Ken Follett's Pillars of the Earth. Walkelin began in 1079 and kept pressing King William for permission to chop trees. He finally was granted as much wood for the building from the Forest of Hempage Wood as his carpenters could take in four days and nights.

"The Bishop collected an innumerable troop of carpenters and within the assigned time cut down the whole wood and carried it off to Winchester. [Soon afterwards the King], passing by Hempage, was struck with amazement and cried out, 'Am I bewitched or have I taken leave of my senses? Had I not once a most delectable wood upon this spot?' But when he understood what had happened, he was violently enraged. Then the Bishop put on a shabby vestment and made his way to the King's feet, humbling begging to resign the episcopate and merely requesting that he might retain his royal friendship and chaplaincy. The King was thus appeased, only observing, 'I was as much too liberal in my grant as you were too greedy in availing yourself of it."

The new cathedral was completed in 1093, and when Walkelin died in 1098, he was buried in the nave. The original tower collapsed in 1107. The chroniclers blamed it on the "sensual" William Rufus being buried there too. Repairs were made, and the replacement, in the Norman style, survived.

Winchester Cathedral is one of the largest in all of Europe

And now I jump forward, to the early 1900s.

Huge cracks appeared in Winchester Cathedral, and total collapse was feared. An architect wanted to build modern foundations of concrete--but how? Workmen dug, but water flooded the caverns below as fast as they dug.

An incredible solution was found: a deep sea diver. William Walker, an experienced man from Portsmouth, stepped forward. For six years, Walker worked underwater for SIX HOURS A DAY in a heavy diving suit. He labored in darkness, using his hands to clear the rotted wood. He completely excavated the trenches, filling them with bags of concrete.

William Walker
Walker''s diving suit
Walker never complained. He took off his helmet to eat lunch every day, followed by some pipe smoking. He often said the smoking  protected him from germs in the water.

When the work was finally done, Walker was the star of a special service of thanksgiving on Saint Swithun's Day in 1912. Shortly after, he was presented to King George and Queen Mary.

Tragically, William Walker died at the age of 49, during the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918.

When, some seven years ago, I began researching my novel The Crown, with a main protagonist who is a Dominican novice, one of the people I turned to for religious discussion was a family friend, the Reverend William A. Collins, an Anglican priest now living in Toronto.

A few months ago, Bill gave me a present. It was a small wooden cross he'd inherited from an old friend. It seems that when a diver worked under Winchester Cathedral, he brought up a great deal of wood. Cathedral workers turned the wood into small crosses and sold them to supporters.

Inscription: "1202-1906: Winchester Cathedral Foundation Wood"


When I hold this cross in my hand, I feel the passionate striving of Walkelin and the selfless labor of William Walker.

I feel truly connected to Winchester Cathedral.



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Nancy Bilyeau is the author of a historical thriller series set in Tudor England, with a Dominican novice as the heroine. For more information, go to  www.nancybilyeau.com

Saturday, October 26, 2013

English Saints: Thomas More and Thomas Cranmer

By Lauren Gilbert

Religion played a huge part in medieval life. It is not too much to say that religion dominated every aspect of daily life. During the tumultuous time of Henry VIII, the religious life of England was ripped asunder and reshaped.

As we approach All Saints Day and All Souls Day, I thought it would be interesting to discuss two men, contemporaries, who did much to shape the religious debate and in many ways embody the disparate sides, Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Thomas More. Both are still the subjects of veneration and discussion today, with one being revered as a reformer and martyr in the Church of England and the other, a canonized Roman Catholic saint, being honored in both faiths.

Although both men are well known, my views were shaped as much by fiction (representations of them in novels, television and movies) as by fact. Clearly, some research was in order. As I was reading about these two men, I became intrigued by their differences, and with their similarity. As fascinating as the religious and political issues are, my area of focus became the personal issues that shaped their thinking and viewpoints later.

Thomas More by Hans Holbein the Younger.

Thomas More was the elder of the two. He was born February 6, 1478, to Sir John More and his wife Agnes, in London. Sir John More was a man of substance; he had inherited lands, and had been given the right to bear a coat of arms by Edward IV. Sir John became an influential barrister and a judge in the Court of the King’s Bench. The first school Thomas More attended as a boy was St. Anthony’s School in Threadneedle Street, where he was educated in Latin.

At roughly the age of 13, about 1490, he was received into the household of John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury (who was also a close advisor of Henry VII). After about 2 years service, Archbishop Morton sent him to Canterbury College at Oxford (Canterbury College was later absorbed into Christ Church), where he studied Greek and Latin. After only 2 years at Oxford, Sir John called Thomas home.

After some time studying at the new Inn, Thomas was admitted as a student at Lincoln’s inn about 1496, and called to the bar in 1501. He also lectured at St Lawrence’s Church on St. Augustine’s City of God. In 1504, Thomas was elected to Parliament. During this time period, he also became drawn to Christian Humanist philosophy, which combined the study of Greek with the study of the Gospels. Available data indicates he was brilliant and popular, with a whimsical sense of humour; he was also unsure of his vocation. He lived with the London Carthusians for 4 years but ultimately felt no clear call to either the priesthood or monastic life.

In approximately 1505 (roughly age 27), Thomas married Jane Colt, and they had 4 children (Margaret, Elizabeth, Cecilia and John) before Jane’s death in 1511. He remarried, to a widow named Alice Middleton. Thomas’s home became a seat of learning, entertaining visitors including Thomas Linacre (English humanist scholar and physician), John Colet (English humanist, churchman and educator), John Fisher who became Bishop of Rochester (who studied at Cambridge and was Chancellor of Cambridge), among others.

Thomas was as concerned with the education of his daughters as well as his son. His career was also developing.

During Henry VII’s reign, Thomas became a Burgess in Parliament, but came under Henry VII’s displeasure during an issue involving funds for Princess Margaret’s marriage to the King of Scotland (Thomas was against it). Thomas was prepared to leave England, when Henry VII died.

Thomas’s situation improved when Henry VIII came to the throne in 1509. In 1510, he became one of two under-sheriffs of London, and was very active in the courts. With the King’s consent, he was appointed as ambassador twice at the request of the English Merchants to the Merchants of Stilliards.

On his first visit, he was negotiating for the English Wool Merchants in Antwerp when he began writing Utopia in 15115, his time in the Low Countries giving him an opportunity to observe Reformist activity in that region. (He finished and published Utopia in 1516, a satire on the corruption and abuse of power, with individual reason as a method of acquiring faith-the citizens of his mythical world had the freedom to choose their religion, but not the freedom of unbelief. It would seem to indicate that he observed some need for reform within the Church.)

His successes brought him to the attention of the King and Cardinal Wolsey. Wolsey placed Thomas in his household, and Thomas was brought to court. Thomas entered the king’s service about 1517, and gained rapid preferment at court, becoming Master of the Requests and receiving a knighthood in 1521 (his father was knighted in 1518).He also became a member of the Privy Council.

He became very popular with the king and queen, who requested his presence frequently (he had to sneak out to visit his family). When the Treasurer of the Exchequer died, Thomas was appointed to that position. In about 1523 (the 14th year of Henry VIII’s reign), Thomas was chosen Speaker in Parliament. He was already actively writing against protestant reformers. His work included helping Henry with Henry’s Assertio (a response to Martin Luther) in 1521, his own Responsio Ad Lutheram (a harsh work in which he accused Luther of heresy), among others.

By contrast, Thomas Cranmer was born July 2, 1489 in Aslockton, Nottinghamshire, the second son of Thomas Cranmer and his wife Anne. The Cranmer family was considered minor gentry, long established in Nottinghamshire but possessed of little fortune. Thomas passed to his son a fondness for country sport (hounds, archery and horsemanship-young Tom was known for his skills with a pack of hound and with either the long bow or the cross bow). Tom’s elder brother inherited the property in 1501, while Tom and a younger brother received small allowances intended for their education. Little is known about Tom’s education as a boy.

In 1503, at about age 14, he was sent to Jesus College at Cambridge, where he studied for at least 10 years, obtaining a bachelor of arts in approximately 1511. One of his contemporaries at Cambridge was Hugh Latimer. Tom studied the scriptures and was exposed to the writings of Erasmus.

Thomas Cranmer by Gerlache Flicke

At this point, Cranmer made what is described as an imprudent marriage to Joan, which caused him to lose his preferment at Jesus College and interrupted his studies. He obtained a lectureship at Magdalen College, which provided a small income. He earned a reputation with his lectures, which were attended by numerous scholars, where he argued against religious superstitions. His wife died in childbirth, with the child, after about a year of marriage.

He regained his preferment at Jesus College, obtaining a master of arts and becoming a fellow as a layman about 1514. The fact that he was able to regain his preferment indicates that he was held in esteem at Cambridge. In 1520, he took orders as a secular priest (not a religious priest-more about this later). Agents of Cardinal Wolsey were looking for a body of learned men to fill Wolsey’s college of Christ Church in Oxford and seem to have offered Cranmer a position.

According to several sources Cranmer elected to stay at Cambridge and became a Doctor of Divinity somewhere between 1523 and 1526. Notes in the margins of the few surviving books from his library indicate his beliefs were still fairly orthodox at this time. He held a lectureship at Cambridge in Old and New Testaments, and was appointed one of the examiners in Theology. He had the reputation of being very strict and requiring his students to be well acquainted with the scriptures. He was also known for his mildness and simplicity.

While Sir Thomas More’s background appears to have been more affluent, these two men are strikingly similar: both of respectable birth, highly intelligent and extremely well educated. Both were exposed fairly early to Humanism and influenced by that philosophy. By all accounts, Oxford was a more conservative institution while Cambridge seems to have attracted a more radical, reformist circle.

Thomas More’s father dictated a change of study to the law after a short time, while Thomas Cranmer was immersed in University studies for over a decade (theological studies). Both seemed to be men of faith and conviction, even though there were differences in their views early on.

It is interesting to note that there would probably have been overlaps in their acquaintances, especially considering that they were both influenced by humanist philosophy. Just to name one, Thomas More’s friend, John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, studied at Cambridge, and was Chancellor of Cambridge-it seems highly unlikely that Thomas Cranmer would have had no acquaintance with him. Both seemed to be well-established in a certain career path.

Marriage is another common point with them. Both men married fairly young; a radical point of separation is the outcome. Thomas More and his wife had 4 children before she passed away after 6 years of marriage. As a widower with children, More’s decision to remarry would have been considered the reasonable decision (if not an essential one). Thomas Cranmer lost his wife and their child after roughly a year of marriage, and was not his father’s heir--another marriage would not have been essential for him.

Thomas Cranmer’s decision to take orders a secular priest seems a logical outcome of the death of his wife after a very short marriage and his immersion in theological study (a secular priest was one who had not taken holy orders as part of a religious community; there is some question about whether or not a vow of chastity was required of a secular priest, according to different works on the subject).

Thomas More’s career in law owed much at this point to his father’s standing and influence, as well as the advantages gained from Archbishop Morton, and subsequently Cardinal Wolsey and Henry VIII. Thomas Cranmer was much more of a self-made man at this stage of his life. These similarities and divergences show the roots of their later differences: Thomas More, in spite of his humanist leanings, was much more conservative and traditional in his views. Thomas Cranmer was already vocal about his opinions on reform.

We now come to the watershed: in 1526, the King’s Great Matter (his desire to end his marriage to Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn) escalated to the divorce debate. This polarizing subject engulfed the legal and religious minds of the day in England.

During this time, Cranmer came to Wolsey’s attention and was sent on a minor diplomat mission to Spain from which he returned in 1527 to his position in Cambridge. About 1529, an illness similar to the plague, possibly the “sweating sickness,” broke out. Schools and universities (including Cambridge) were closed, and Cranmer retired to Waltham in Essex to the house of a Mr. Cressy, whose sons were his students and whose education he continued to supervise. He was still in Waltham in 1529.

After the legatine court was dissolved after revoking the divorce case to Rome, Henry went on a summer progress in southern England in 1529. Members of Henry’s court, Fox and Gardiner among others, were invited to Mr. Cressy’s home, where Fox and Gardiner met Dr. Cranmer. Of course, Henry’s divorce was the topic of discussion.

Supposedly, Cranmer the academic suggested that they pursue a collection of opinions of all of the universities in Europe regarding the question “Is it lawful to marry a brother’s wife?”. If yes, the king’s scruples would be satisfied; if no, the pope would have to decide for divorce. This narrowed the central question away from the matter of the dispensation to a point which could allow a decision that the marriage was null.

Fox and Gardiner allegedly brought this to Henry’s attention the next day. Henry met with Cranmer, and sent him to the Boleyn household. The ultimate result was that, after preparing a treatise outlining and defending the course he proposed, Cranmer was appointed to a commission with the Earl of Wiltshire (Anne Boleyn’s father) and the Bishop of London which set out for Rome in 1530. Cranmer was also entrusted with the King’s dispatches and with matters of trade to negotiate for the merchants of England. These activities kept him in Europe for a while, where he became a convert to the Reformation.

The failure of the legatine court to resolve the issue in Henry’s favour resulted in the disgrace of Cardinal Wolsey, who lost the position of Lord Chancellor. The King appointed Thomas More as Lord Chancellor in October of 1529, with More being the first layman to hold this position.

As Lord Chancellor, Thomas More upheld heresy laws, imprisoned Lutherans and other dissenters, and even ordered the burning of six heretics while continuing his writings against reformers. When Henry VIII imposed himself as Supreme Head of the Church of England (even with the limitation of so far as the Law of Christ allows established by the convocation), More wanted to resign as chancellor. However, he was persuaded to stay on and look into the “Great Matter.”

He upheld the validity of Henry’s marriage, but was allowed to stay out of the controversy. However, his opposition to Henry’s proposal to forbid the clergy to prosecute heretics or to hold meetings without his consent, and a later effort to withhold First Fruits from the Holy See resulted in King Henry VIII accepting More’s resignation in May of 1532. Reduced to near poverty, More returned home and lived quietly, engaged in his writing, but staying out of the controversies surrounding the King’s marriage and religious matters.

Ironically, it was in October of 1532 that Cranmer, who was still in Europe, received a message that Henry planned to reward him with the See of Canterbury, which had become vacant upon the death of William Warham.(Another irony: his taking position of Archbishop of Canterbury was dependent upon bulls from the pope.)

Cranmer was troubled by two issues: as a convert to the Reformation, he was not comfortable with the thought of swearing an oath to the Pope; secondly, in 1532, he had remarried. There was a prejudice against married clergy, and Henry, in particular, disapproved.

Henry obtained the bulls in February of 1533 and in March, the consecration took place. There is no indication that he disclosed his marriage or discussed his concerns with Henry or anyone else. However, he took his oaths as Archbishop openly making exceptions, taking it as it was consistent with the Laws of God, the King’s prerogatives and the statutes of the realm. By openly swearing his oath with qualifications, he apparently felt no scruples at accepting the post.

So, at this point, both men were in position for the next development in the drama that was England under Henry VIII. As the influence of one waned, the influence of the other grew. Each had their respective strengths and weaknesses; each played his part as the drama went on, with More being one of the earlier casualties of Henry’s new order, and Cranmer outliving both Henry and his son Edward only to meet his end under Henry’s daughter Mary.

I don’t intend to get into a discussion of the motivations, ethical dilemmas or other issues. What fascinates me are the similarities between these men, something I frankly had not expected. Well educated, dedicated to their careers, passionate about their religious beliefs, sincere in their desires to serve their king. Descriptions indicate that both were personable men that others liked and respected.

I can’t help but wonder if at any time these two men ever engaged in conversation. Their educational background and diplomatic experiences gave them many points in common. While their religious differences were profound, I think these two men could still have found issues on which they could agree, with both having humanist leanings and years of theological studies under their belts.

I also wonder about the age difference; More was 11 years older than Cranmer. Is it possible that, had More been born a bit later, he would have been more open to the Reformation? Would Cranmer have remained more conservative in his outlook if he had been born earlier? At the end of the day, I found both of these men to be much more interesting, engaging and human than I expected.

Sources include:

Walsh, Michael, ed. BUTLER’S LIVES OF THE SAINTS Concise Edition Revised and Updated.New York: HarperCollins, 1991.

Wilson, Derek.IN THE LION’S COURT Power, Ambition, and Sudden Death in the Reign of Henry VIII.New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2001.

Catholic Encyclopedia website. “St. Sir Thomas More.” http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14689c.htm


Encyclopedia of World Biography website. “Thomas More Biography.”

European Graduate School website. “Thomas More – Biography.” http://www.egs.edu/library/thomas-more/biography

Fordham University website. “Modern History Sourcebook: William Roper: The Life of Sir Thomas More.”http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/16Croper-more.asp

Gilpin, William.The Life of Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. London: R. Blamire, 1784. GoogleBooks.http://books.google.com/books?id=KIwDAAAAYAAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false

Luminarium Anthology of English Literature website. “Thomas Cranmer (1489-1556). http://www.luminarium.org/renlit/cranmerbio.htm

“The Life of Sir Thomas More (1478-1535).” http://www.luminarium.org/renlit/morebio.htm

Both images from Wikimedia Commons.

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Lauren Gilbert is the author of HEYERWOOD: A Novel, and a contributor to CASTLES, CUSTOMS AND KINGS: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors.She lives in Florida with her husband.  Visit her website at http://www.lauren-gilbert.com

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

The Flanders Mare: Anne of Cleves, Henry VIII’s Fourth Wife

by Lauren Gilbert

         The life of the Henry VIII and his marital struggles has been a source of fascination to most people interested in history.   (It’s like a train wreck; even if you don’t want to look, you just can’t help yourself.)  I have always felt a great deal of interest in, and sympathy for, Anne of Cleves, Henry’s fourth wife.
         Anne of Cleves is frequently dismissed with few words.  Her personal appearance has been dismissed as unattractive, a “great Flanders mare” who was too repulsive to touch.   Because she did not speak English, and was not educated in the music and literature so popular at Henry’s court, Anne is frequently considered not particularly intelligent.  Some views show her as of little prestige or import.  Her time as queen is often considered a blip between tragedies.   There is considerably more to Anne of Cleves than a serio-comic figure shunted off to the side.
         Anne of Cleves was born September 22, 1515 in Dusseldorf, Cleves, Germany.  Her mother was Marie of Julich and her Father John III, Duke of Cleves.  Anne actually comes of very prestigious stock:  she was descended from Edward I of England and had connections to Louis XII of France and the Dukes of Burgundy.  (Only Catherine of Aragon had a better pedigree among Henry’s wives.)  John III and his family were in fact Catholic.  He was influenced by Erasmus and had moderate views for reform.  Anne of Cleves was not a Lutheran.  She was unofficially betrothed at the age of 12 to Francois, the heir of the Duke of Lorraine, but the betrothal was never formally announced, and eventually it was considered cancelled.  She was raised as was customary in her German homeland.  She spoke only German, and her upbringing was focused more on domestic skills than intellectual attainments.  However, it is known that she could read and write, and there is no indication that she was unintelligent or uneducated.
         After Jane Seymour’s death, when Henry did decide to look for a wife, he started what amounted to a royal beauty pageant.  After being rebuked by the king of France when he refused to get a group of suitable candidates together in Calais so Henry could look them over, Henry was forced to settle for portraits.  The lovely portrait of Anne of Cleves by Hans Holbein the Younger was one of the portraits considered. 

          This portrait shows a serene young woman with an attractive oval face, and a tiny waist.  Based on Henry’s disdain, it has frequently been dismissed as “flattering” at best.  However, this does not appear to be a fair assessment.  Other contemporary portraits of Anne exist, and show basically the same features.  A gallery on TudorHistory.org contains other images that coincide with Holbein’s portrait.  You can visit this gallery HERE. 
         There is no doubt that the marriage contract between Henry VIII and Anne of Cleves was a political match.  In response to the treaty between the king of France and the Emperor negotiated by Pope Paul III, Cromwell looked for a political counterbalance, and Cleves seemed to fill that bill.  Anne’s sister, Sybille (or Sibylla) was married to John Frederick, the Elector of Saxony and head of the Protestant Confederation of Germany.  John III, Anne’s father, was therefore father-in-law to a powerful Protestant leader; he was also in bad odor with the Emperor himself over the duchy of Gelderland.  The marriage treaty included agreements of mutual defense against the Emperor and offered protection to both England and Cleves.  The religious views in England and Cleves were actually quite compatible, as Henry’s church was still basically Catholic (aside from disavowing papal authority) and John was interested in reform of the existing Catholic Church in Cleves.  These advantages, combined with Holbein’s attractive likeness, tipped the balance.  Henry’s yearning for love and romance did the rest.   The betrothal was formalized October 6, 1539, not long after the portrait was delivered.
         So what happened?  How did Anne of Cleves come to be regarded so poorly?  I believe the whole thing comes down to a pivotal issue: the meeting at Rochester.  After the proxy marriage, Anne of Cleves landed at Dover on December 27, 1539.  She arrived in Rochester January 1, 1540. Henry, in full romantic frenzy, could no longer wait for the ceremonial meeting.  He rushed off to Rochester in disguise to meet Anne.  He was expecting an immediate romantic recognition and a burst of mutual overwhelming passion.  Unfortunately, it didn’t happen.  When he was taken to meet Anne, apparently his disguise was too good.  She didn’t recognize him, and paid little attention to him until he showed her a token purportedly from the king and then embraced her.  Imagine what she thought about being accosted by an unknown, fat, elderly man.   Henry went off and changed; upon his return, his lords and knights made appropriate obeisance.  Anne finally realized it was him and responded appropriately, but the damage was done.   His romantic bubble burst and his pride was injured, so he became angry and declared “I like her not”.  (She probably wasn't looking her best either.  Travel was quite arduous at the time, and the winter weather can't have helped.)  When they married January 6, 1540 at Greenwich, they retired together, only to discover that he could not consummate it.  That put the seal of doom on this relationship.  Of course, it had to be Anne’s fault.
         At this point, Henry impugned her honor, implying that she repulsed him because he could tell she was not a virgin after feeling her body.  (Yet he later declared that he left her as much a maiden as when her mother bore her.)  He could not accept that he was no longer handsome Prince  Hal, able to make any woman he wanted fall in love at first sight, nor that his body was no longer able to perform as desired.  Therefore, she became the scapegoat.  Not content with deriding her appearance and her honor, he also said she smelled.  All in all, Henry showed himself as a spiteful, angry man, unwilling to take any responsibility, and ready to do whatever it took to get out of the marriage.
         Henry and Anne put a good face on things, and continued to sleep together at least at intervals.  However, the marriage was apparently never successfully consummated.  There is a theory that Anne did not know that her marriage was unconsummated, that she was ignorant of the marriage relationship.  That does not seem reasonable to me.  Henry VIII was not exactly a young woman’s dream at this point.  Between his age, obesity and health issues (including the ulcerated leg) it is very probable that she did not find him attractive either.  The bottom line is that these two people were married, but did not have any spark of attraction between them.  (Is it possible that Henry’s rancor increased because he could tell that Anne did not want him?  A further blow to his ego?  I think so.)
         Meanwhile, the political climate had changed again.  France and Spain were no longer getting along.  Henry did not want to have to provide defense for Cleves in that dispute with the emperor.  The advantages of the alliance with Cleves had dissipated.  When combined with Henry’s new passion for Catherine Howard, the end of the marriage was inevitable.
         Although she was not crowned, Anne did serve as queen in Henry’s court.  By all accounts, she was dignified, tactful, and sympathetic.  She was a kind stepmother to Elizabeth and Edward, and became a friend to Mary Tudor.  In fact, it appears the only documented quarrel she had with  Henry concerned Mary.  She enjoyed, and was apparently very good at, her public role as queen, achieving a level of popularity with the people.  Ironically, she was especially popular with the Protestant subjects, who assumed she was Lutheran and would bring Protestantism to England.  There is every reason to believe that Anne may have become a successful and respected queen of England.  Tutoring in English language and customs had begun when she and Henry were betrothed; it would seem that she was settling in fairly well.  In any case, her role as queen ended almost as soon as it began, annulled by mutual agreement in July of 1540.
         The annulment rested on a precontract issue (Anne’s unofficial betrothal to Francois, for which no documents confirming the cancellation were presented) and the non-consummation.  Anne agreed with the annulment, signed the necessary paperwork, and wrote to her brother indicating her agreement with the situation.  (One can’t help but wonder if Anne’s willingness to agree to the annulment was an unalloyed pleasure to Henry.  Maybe a little struggle to keep him would have soothed his ego!)  However, in exchange for her agreement, Henry gave her a generous settlement, an excellent place at court, and allowed her to maintain her relationship with his children, including Mary Tudor with whom she had a warm friendship.  Ironically, it appears that the new relationship between Anne and Henry became amicable and they enjoyed something of a friendship after all the smoke cleared.  This entire episode speaks well of Anne’s courage, common sense, and tact.  She was, in fact, the only one of Henry’s unwanted wives to get out of marriage comfortably and actually forge a civil relationship with him after the fact.  (Certainly, Thomas Cromwell, the author of her marriage, and others paid the ultimate price.)
           After Henry’s unfortunate marriage to Catherine Howard ended, there were rumors that Anne of Cleves might be brought back as Henry’s queen.  Many of these rumors seemed to have their roots with Anne’s family and supporters.  Nothing indicates a serious desire on Anne of Cleves’ part to remarry Henry.  (One would have to ask if jumping back into that frying pan would have been worth it!) Her financial settlements were contingent upon her staying in England during Henry’s lifetime, so there was no advantage to a return to Cleves.  Later, the possibility was discussed but nothing came to pass.  Anne remained In England, and appears to have made a comfortable life.
          After Henry’s death, Anne’s income suffered due to inflation, and she was not accorded the respect she became accustomed to receiving during Henry’s lifetime after Edward became king.  She and Mary continued their friendship and, after Mary became queen, Anne returned to court and apparently involved herself with Mary’s marriage negotiations (with a different candidate in mind: Archduke Ferdinand, the emperor’s nephew).  The disappointment of many, including Anne, when Mary selected Philip of Spain, combined with the Wyatt Rebellion, caused difficulties for Anne.  Mary suspected her of being a conspirator because of her continued fondness for Elizabeth and her associations with her brother William, now the Duke of Cleves.  Even though there was nothing linking Anne to the conspiracy, no guilt established, Anne’s relationship with Mary suffered a blow.  Although Mary remained polite and corresponded, Anne was not invited back to court.
         In her later years, Anne lived in some obscurity, and experienced continual financial difficulties as her income and support were curtailed and her properties exchanged (often against her will).  She is known to have been in ill health by the end of April 1557.  She made her will July 12, 1557, a generous will leaving bequests to Mary and Elizabeth, her family, and to members of her household past and current.   She also left bequests for the poor.  She died July 15, 1557 at Chelsea Old Manor, having outlived Henry and Catherine Parr.  Queen Mary allowed her full royal honors, including burial in a tomb in Westminster Abbey.
         Henry’s fourth wife clearly suffered from bad press.   His mean and spiteful comments about her looks were clearly the result of his own damaged ego, in my mind, and have colored accounts of her life to her detriment.   As best I can tell, she was an attractive, kind, intelligent young woman, thrust into an impossible situation.  That she got out of it with her head, an income, and a place at court speaks volumes about her. 
Sources:
Norton, Elizabeth.  ANNE OF CLEVES Henry VIII’s Discarded Bride.  2010: Amberley Publishing, Stroud.
Saaler, Mary.  ANNE OF CLEVES Fourth Wife of Henry VIII.  1995: The Rubicon Press, London.
Starkey, David.  SIX WIVES The Queens of Henry VIII.  2004: Vintage (Random House), London.
Encyclopedia.com  JOHN CANNON. "Anne of Cleves." The Oxford Companion to British History. 2002. Encyclopedia.com. 17 Nov. 2012.  http://www.encyclopedia.com/topic/Anne_of_Cleves.aspx
EnglishHistory.net  “Anne of Cleves.”  (no author or date posted shown.) http://englishhistory.net/tudor/monarchs/cleves.html
“English Ancestry of the Six Wives, descent from Edward I of England.”  Posted by Golden Aged on  12/14/2011. (Based on Hampton Court pedigrees in stained glass windows.) http://goldenagedregina.blogspot.com/2011/12/english-ancestry-of-six-wives-descent.html
Luminarium.org  “Anne of Cleves (c. 1515-1557).”  Excerpted from the Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition, Vol. II, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1910. 69.  Luminarium-Encyclopedia Project: England Under the Tudors: Queen Anne of Cleves 1515-1557.  http://www.luminarium.org/encyclopedia/anneofcleves.htm
TudorPlace.com  “About Anne of Cleves.” (no author or date posted shown.) http://www.tudorplace.com.ar/aboutAnneofCleves.htm
TudorHistory.org  “Anne of Cleves.”  (no author or date posted shown.)  http://tudorhistory.org/cleves/     
 Lauren Gilbert is the author of HEYERWOOD: A Novel.  A member of the Jane Austen Society of North America, she lives in Florida with her husband.  Her next novel is due out later this year.