But, of course, Cromwell did not act alone against Anne – certainly the entire game plan had Henry’s consent – and there were a multitude of circumstances that led to her execution. While Katherine had brought the power and prestige of the Holy Roman Empire to the court of Henry VIII, Anne had brought nothing. It had been a costly gamble for Henry that yielded no reward. Cromwell served Henry, not Anne. This was not a personal betrayal, it was business. Cromwell simply came out on top.
The Mirror and the Light begins where Bring Up the Bodies ends: Cromwell is looking up at the scaffold where Anne had knelt moments before; he turns around and walks away, his son and the Duke of Suffolk alongside him. There are no letters or accounts by Cromwell that might indicate what he truly felt about Anne’s death, but we do have Chapuys’ reports to Charles V. One, in particular, informs Charles that some weeks following Anne’s execution Chapuys had an illuminating conversation with Cromwell, some of which has found its way into The Mirror and the Light:
‘I was not responsible for Anne’s death,’ he says. ‘She herself brought it about, she and her gentlemen.”’
‘But at a time of your choosing.’
The real Chapuy’s reports reveal that Cromwell was quite forthcoming, keen to assure Chapuys that with Anne’s death their diplomatic negotiations would run smoother; he confided that he had masterminded Anne’s downfall, but only because Henry had authorized and commissioned him to prosecute Anne quickly in order to have her taken care of. As Mantel’s Jane Seymour notes with sharp clarity, ‘The king never does an unpleasant thing. Lord Cromwell does it for him.’ There is no historical evidence to indicate that Cromwell ever regretted this entire episode and his role in its conclusion: whereas Mantel’s Cromwell seems haunted by Anne’s execution, and the innocent men executed alongside her.
Henry, however, was determined to erase every memory of her, particularly those he could see. He insisted that the hundreds of carved and painted examples of their intertwined initials be removed from every inch of his domain, just as he had done with the emblems from his previous marriage. Throughout the book, Mantel has Cromwell and others at court notice instances of carvings that have survived the purge; some even exist today, such as the one in the Great Hall at Hampton Court Palace: ‘Shelton!’ the duke yells. ‘You’ve got a HA-HA. Knock it out, man. Do it while the weather’s fine’.
We know that as soon as Henry heard of Anne’s execution, he rushed to be with Jane Seymour and her family. The following day they were betrothed and eleven days later they were married in the Queen’s Closet at Whitehall by Bishop Gardiner, now back in favour with Henry. In fact, much would change: with the Boleyns obliterated, there was a clean sweep of the Privy Chamber and the court, allowing new families to rise to positions of power and influence. The Cromwell family was one of them.
PERSONAL SPHERES
In The Mirror and the Light, Cromwell is at the very height of his power and his life reflects the influence he enjoyed. In July 1536 he succeeded Anne’s father, Thomas Boleyn as Lord Privy Seal, and he is one of the most powerful men at court. At the gates of Austin Friars, crowds of petitioners shout his name in the hope of gaining his attention and having their papers read. His London residence bears witness to the comings and goings of those closest to Cromwell: Rafe, Richard Cromwell and Gregory frequent its halls. Rafe has risen in Henry’s esteem – he has been appointed as Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, perfectly placed to be Cromwell’s eyes and ears in the inner sanctum. The king has become increasingly fond of Rafe, granting him rewards that would continue for the rest of his reign, and would result in Rafe being one of the richest commoners in the country. In The Mirror and the Light, Gregory has grown from the gentle teenager with no sense for Latin to a man whose company is widely sought: ‘From Somerset to Kent, from the midlands to the northern fells, castles and manors compete to entertain him.’ Cromwell’s nephew, Richard, is his uncle’s trusted agent and always at his side. These three young men are a constant presence in the household despite their separate lives and duties. As Mantel’s Cromwell surveys his dynasty, he reflects: ‘he has trained them, encouraged them, written them as versions of himself’.
Another welcome guest at Austin Friars is Thomas Wriothesley (see chapter 3), a frequent addition to the Cromwell household, and Richard Rich, a protégé of Thomas Audley who worked with Cromwell over the years. Throughout the early 1530s, Rich benefitted from his relationship with both Audley and Cromwell as he began to audit monasteries around the country. Rich had also been close to Thomas More as a boy, and yet played a significant role in his trial for treason. Cromwell would have done well to take note of Rich’s flexibility when it came to allegiances.
Cromwell also attempts to connect with his daughter, Janneke, alongside Dorothea, Wolsey’s illegitimate daughter. Janneke remains aloof, whereas Dorothea despises Cromwell, believing he betrayed her father, an accusation which strikes at the very heart of Cromwell’s being. Wolsey, who had been such a reassuring physical and spectral presence in the first two books, is all but silent in The Mirror and the Light, as if Cromwell’s memory of his beloved master has been corrupted and he can no longer conjure him.
Along with the Cromwell supporters, conservative factions who had assisted Cromwell in bringing down Anne and her faction now step onto centre stage as we are introduced to new families, new alliances and new rivalries.
THE SEYMOURS
The Seymours could trace their origins back to the Norman invasion of 1066. Their original name, St Maur, likely hailed from the village of St-Maur-sur-Loire in Touraine. For several centuries they
