Anne refers everything to him; she says, laughing, ‘Cromwell, you are my man.’ The wind is set fair and the tide is running for him. He can feel the tug of it under his feet.
The English landed in Calais on Friday 11 October, and five days later, Norfolk, Thomas Boleyn and group of gentlemen met with ‘the great mayster of Fraunce’, Anne, duc de Montmorency, in Boulogne before returning to Calais.
Historically Anne was frustrated at being left behind: Francis had no women in his train and therefore Anne and her ladies could not be present. But it was Anne, with her perfect command of French, her charm and vivaciousness, and her knowledge of the French court and its king, who would be an asset at any French meeting.
Francis and Henry return to Calais where they attend a lavish supper for both courts. After the feast, Anne and her ladies surprise the court, emerging in gowns of ‘straunge fashion, made of clothe of gold’. Mantel’s Anne is seductive, enticing Francis to sit in a window bay to talk. There is something almost inappropriate about her version, seen through Cromwell’s eyes, and he enlists Norfolk to tear Anne and the French king away from one another:
‘My lord, fetch your niece away. She has done enough diplomacy. Our king is jealous.’
This, of course, is partially artistic license. By all accounts, Anne spoke with great affection for France, of her time there, and implored Francis to support their cause, but Mantel is setting the scene for us. Cromwell watches as an infuriated Anne is dragged away by her uncle, with Henry watching in angry satisfaction that she will be punished by her family for wanton behaviour.
Cromwell then hears doors slamming, voices raised. Mary Shelton, a cousin of the Boleyns and Anne’s lady-in-waiting, rushes out of her rooms in search of a Bible – Anne is demanding one. Cromwell meets Mary Boleyn in the gardens, who tells him that at last Anne and Henry have consummated their relationship. Cromwell asks what the Bible was needed for:
‘To swear him. Before witnesses. Me. Norris. He made a binding promise. They are married in God’s sight. And he swears he will marry her again in England and crown her queen when spring comes.’
Exactly when Henry and Anne first slept together has filled countless pages of history books – no other consummation, save Katherine of Aragon’s, has been so scrutinized – but it was not the result of a jealous quarrel between the couple. After a thoroughly successful series of meetings and banquets, the English had planned to sail from Calais to Dover, but the winds had whipped up the waters of the English Channel and the ships turned back. They were stranded for eight days, as the harbour was besieged by storms and mist. It is believed that during this time, the couple consummated their relationship, and upon their return to England, they were secretly wed, either in late 1532 or early 1533.
A WAY FORWARD
In the hall of Austin Friars, Mantel’s Cromwell is having his coat of arms painted on the wall. The German painter is painting a rose, lions, and two blackbirds – the blackbirds are Wolsey’s emblem. By 1533, in Mantel’s words, Cromwell is minister of everything. He certainly was a prominent member of the council and at court, and seemed the ideal royal servant. ‘Sometimes it is a solace to me,’ Henry says, ‘not to have to talk and talk. You were born to understand me, perhaps.’
In the series, Cromwell conducts all business and oversees anything of importance; he stands quietly as a witness to Anne and Henry’s secret marriage in England, confirming the promises they made in Calais. He spies Mary Boleyn, who holds up a hand, her fingers an inch apart. It is the only sign so far that Anne is pregnant.
In Wolf Hall, Cromwell has become indispensable to Anne, but he remains wary and distant. She will forever in his eyes be a creature of calculation, and Mantel’s Cromwell often makes references to an unsavoury reputation with men, a reputation the real Anne did not have prior to the accusations of 1536. Historically, Anne and Cromwell’s relationship is a complex and ever-shifting one; they are politically and religiously aligned, but there is no evidence that the two were particularly close. But one wonders if the ever-cautious Cromwell was hesitant to get too close to the Boleyn circle – they were now all in uncharted territory, Henry was technically a bigamist, and the child Anne carried risked being seen as illegitimate. As Rafe Sadler quietly reminds Cromwell: ‘... the whole history of the king’s marriage tells us a child in the womb is not an heir in the cradle.’
T
RIUMPH
Henry’s hand was forced by Anne’s condition, which was a blessing in disguise. When the Archbishop of Canterbury, William Warham, died in 1532, it left a vacancy in the powerful diocese, and Henry and Anne knew exactly who should fill it. Henry breezily nominated ‘a nobody’, in Rome’s eyes – Thomas Cranmer – and Clement, eager to please Henry, quickly gave his consent for Cranmer to be consecrated as archbishop, and the papal bulls were drawn up. Chapuys hastily wrote to Clement, advising him to delay the bulls until after the case had reached a verdict in Rome, so that Cranmer’s involvement could be neutralized and the matter not brought to England. Chapuys, who rarely missed a trick, also informed Clement just who Cranmer was, but he was ignored. Matters moved with impressive speed. In late March the bulls for the archbishopric of Canterbury arrived, and in the first week of April, Parliament passed the bill Cromwell had masterminded, the Act in Restraint of Appeals, meaning that any verdict concerning the king’s marriage could not be challenged in Rome. Mantel’s Cromwell visits Katherine, still fighting her husband. Katherine can be as fierce as Anne, but she is not sharp; rather, she has the strength of her conviction, and as Cromwell
