THE DEATH OF KATHERINE
Historically, we cannot know with certainty what Cromwell was thinking at the turn of the year. After all, Anne was pregnant, and whatever clashes she and Henry had, so far they had always come back together. But crucially, in January 1536, word reached court that Katherine, who had been exiled and separated from her daughter for years, was close to death.
Mantel’s Cromwell visits her at Kimbolton, Cambridgeshire, noting that she is indeed ill, but instead of a sense of anticipation, he feels empathy:
... perhaps she dreams of the gardens of the Alhambra, where she grew up: the marble pavements, the bubbling of crystal water into basins, the drag of a white peacock’s tail and the scent of lemons.
The meeting Mantel describes is poignant. Cromwell is respectful and frank, but he does not shy from the truth. Katherine is dying, and he wants her to save her daughter by reconciling with the king. Mantel sees the futility of Katherine’s fearless determination, and utter hope, that she and her daughter will stand united and that Henry will yield to them. Historically, it was Chapuys who tried to advise Mary and balance Katherine’s influence. Chapuys wanted to protect Mary at all costs, a sentiment that Mantel apportions to Cromwell. An anxious Chapuys begged Cromwell for permission to visit Katherine, but he was delayed a day as Henry wanted to see him before his departure, a scene which Mantel stages. The informal audience with Henry only serves to irritate him further: Chapuys is greeted with a bear hug from the exuberant king, who has heard Katherine is on her deathbed and can hardly contain his excitement.
As it happened, Chapuys would reach Katherine in time and was able to spend several days consoling her, assuring her; a devoted servant to the end. Katherine was heartened and seemed to rally so Chapuys returned to London, but on 8th January he is overtaken by news of her death and returned to a jubilant court. In many historical and fictional accounts, Thomas and George Boleyn remark loudly that it was a pity Mary had not joined her mother, but Chapuys, who wrote the dispatch, actually reported that the men must have said such a thing to themselves – an assumed sentiment, rather than a remark.
Jousts and tournaments were planned to celebrate not only Katherine’s death, but also Anne’s pregnancy. But that afternoon, at the jousts at Greenwich, the king was thrown from his horse, which reared and then fell on top of him. Henry lay unconscious for two hours. The court was thrown into complete chaos, described in Bring Up the Bodies – an hysterical Norfolk rushing at Cromwell: ‘“By God, Cromwell!” he snarls.’ Cromwell has a moment of realization:
‘How many men can say, as I must, “I am a man whose only friend is the King of England”? I have everything, you would think. And yet take Henry away and I have nothing.’
All believe Henry is dead, except Cromwell who sees he is breathing, but he is shaken. The news of Henry’s fall and the initial belief that he has died is delivered with little tact by Norfolk to his niece, Anne, who is genuinely distraught. Five days later, the day Katherine is buried, Anne miscarries a boy. Cromwell knows that Henry now wants to be rid of Anne, and curiously, Katherine’s death has paved the way. Henry could hardly be rid of his second queen while his first was still living. Cromwell spends the next weeks in conference with the Seymours, coaching Jane on how she is now to behave with the king, grooming her. The stakes have been raised, and marriage may well be on the table. Jane is the antithesis of Anne, and the dutiful Cromwell makes sure everyone sees the contrast:
Notice how he speaks of Jane: so humble, so shy. Even Archbishop Cranmer must recognise the portrait, the black reverse portrait of the present queen.
THE FALL OF THE BOLEYNS
In his seven years at court, Chapuys had never met Anne, so it was of great interest to everyone attending Easter Mass of 1536 how they would react when they inevitably crossed paths. It is a great moment in history and Mantel has her take on it:
Anne turns her head. A pointed smile: and to the enemy, she makes a reverence, a gracious inclination of her jewelled neck. Chapuys screws up his eyes tight, and bows to the concubine.
Mantel’s Chapuys worries about how the Emperor will react when the exchange is reported to him, but this is not quite what happened. We know that it was Chapuys who first bowed to Anne as she walked past, and what surprised him was Anne’s reaction: ‘I must say that she was affable enough on the occasion for on my being placed behind the door by which she entered the chapel, she turned round to return the reverence which I made her when she passed.’
We do not know exactly why Anne did this, but it is possible that, with Katherine gone and the French clearly no longer willing to be allies, Anne had been advised to show some favour to Chapuys, but more importantly, through him she would show respect to Charles V. In Bring Up the Bodies, the explanation is simpler: Henry has forced Chapuys to acknowledge his second marriage:
... to a queen whom he no longer wants. ... Now, if he likes, he can let it go.
Cromwell has filed away all the rumours, all the snide comments and tidbits fed to him over the years about Anne. He sits at his desk and shakes them all out, laying them in front of him. He has names: Henry Norris, Mark Smeaton, Francis Weston, William Brereton and George Boleyn.
In Bring Up the Bodies, Cromwell meets privately with Thomas and George Boleyn, flatly telling
