The court made ready for a new queen: members of the queen’s household which had been disbanded following Jane’s death now regrouped. Jane Rochford returned alongside the familiar names: Mary Fitzroy, Edward Seymour’s wife, Anne, and Elizabeth (Bess) Cromwell. But there were a few new faces: Catherine Carey, the daughter of Mary Boleyn; Mary Norris, daughter of the deceased Henry Norris; and another Howard niece, Catherine. This is our first glimpse of Henry’s fifth wife: ‘Her glance slips absently over the men, but rakes the women head to toe. Clearly she has never seen so many great ladies before; she is studying how they stand, how they move.’ Mantel’s Cromwell expresses disappointment that Catherine, Lady Latimer, has not joined the household. He has been teased in the past by the boys at Austin Friars of setting his cap at her when she visited on behalf of her husband; he admits that he finds her to be highly intelligent and alluring. Cromwell, of course, does not know that Lady Latimer will, in time, be Henry’s sixth wife.
Anne of Cleves’ journey across the continent to England took a gruelling two weeks, taking her through Imperial territory for which she required a passport, and then through to Calais and across the Channel. It was intended that Anne should meet Henry for the first time at Blackheath, but an impetuous Henry could not contain himself and against everyone’s advice, rode down to Rochester to surprise her, regardless of protocol or what her own entourage would make of it. In The Mirror and the Light it is Gregory Cromwell who barges into his father’s room asking how he could let Henry go, as he recounts the mortifying incident.
Anne was watching the bull-baiting from her window when a commonly dressed Henry approached her. She barely acknowledged him, naturally, though some reports tell us that he tried to kiss her and she pushed him away. His romantic gesture rejected, Henry is crushed, embarrassed and ultimately repulsed. In his eyes, this tall, slim and pleasant young woman immediately becomes ugly, foul-smelling and certainly not the virgin he was promised. She has shown Henry his own reflection, and he hates her for it.
Henry believed he had been deceived, and demanded that the ambassadors accompanying Anne produce papers proving that she was free to marry. In the meantime, Henry reluctantly allowed the wedding to take place on 6 January 1540 in the Royal Chapel at Greenwich, but the couple’s first night as husband and wife was far from rewarding. Henry was quick to tell Cromwell that he had not consummated the marriage, that he could not bring himself to do so. To make matters worse, word reached England that Charles V and Francis were withdrawing from their mutual alliance, and both now looked once more to England to renew their negotiations. But what really must have rankled with Henry was when he learned that Anne’s brother, Wilhelm, might marry the woman he had desired, Christina, Duchess of Milan, as part of an agreement with Charles V.
MISCALCULATIONS AND EXECUTION
It is difficult for the reader to get a sense of Cromwell’s downfall in The Mirror and the Light because he simply does not see it coming. The evidence, however, is manifestly clear as the conservative factions of the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, together with Stephen Gardiner, gathered against Cromwell, taking advantage of the king’s displeasure with his most recent marriage.
In April 1540, Ambassador Marillac wrote to Francis I that Cromwell was finished, his downfall imminent. But Cromwell rallied, and met with his detractors in Parliament on 12 April and successfully passed a series of bills he had drafted in the hope that this would consolidate his position. He was particularly pleased with a new taxation bill which would increase crown revenue, which always pleased Henry. But then Cromwell miscalculated:
Before Norfolk arrives home from France, he has invaded the duke’s own country. He has closed Thetford Priory, where the duke’s forebears lie.
Closing Thetford Priory was an unforgivable insult to Norfolk. The duke asked that it at least be made into a college for the benefit of many. But an overly antagonistic Cromwell simply dissolved it, forcing the disinterment of the Howard tombs, which were moved to Framlingham.
Cromwell was feeling confident, believing that he had fought off a political attack. But within days he was surprised to hear that Wriothesley, whom he had considered his man for some years, was back in Gardiner’s sphere. To borrow a phrase from the real Gardiner, ‘the cat had been turned in the pan’ meaning things were not as they should be. Cromwell, both historically and in the series, failed to understand Henry. He had tried to force his own religious ideas on the king, choosing to ignore the fact that Henry’s break with Rome had been a political move to secure the annulment of his marriage, and while he relished his authority over the Church of England, he had no intention of ever committing to reformist doctrine. And Cromwell had, like Wolsey, made too many enemies.
However, if Cromwell had harboured any apprehension about his standing, his surprise elevation as Earl of Essex, on 18th April, one of the most ancient and distinguished titles in the country, as well as his appointment as Lord Great Chamberlain, was more than enough to help him feel secure. The timing of such prestigious titles still puzzles historians, with some speculating that Henry intended to lull Cromwell into a false sense of security. Cromwell was unaware of various accusations that were being voiced to the king: that he had intended to marry the Lady Mary; that he had negotiated with the princes of the Schmalkaldic League beyond his remit; that
