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Since I was 7 years old, I’ve been absolutely fascinated with the Tudors.

I do not mean the Starz TV series from a decade ago (that series, or rather, my intense dislike of it, merits its own post). Rather, I am fascinated by the Tudors themselves, particularly King Henry VIII’s six wives, and Queen Elizabeth I. As every true Tudorphile knows, today is a poignant date.

On this day nearly 500 years ago, Anne Boleyn, Queen of England and second wife to King Henry VIII, was executed. She had been falsely accused of witchcraft, adultery, and incest (with her own brother). Such heinous crimes were treason, and the punishment for treason was death.

Even if you aren’t too familiar with the Tudors, most people know that good ol’ King Henry lopped off the heads of two of his wives (not he himself, of course; he had the executioners do the dirty work). Anne Boleyn was one of his unfortunate victims.

Who was Anne? Some Context

King Henry VIII was married to Queen Catherine of Aragon, who by European 16th century standards was the perfect wife and queen: humble, devoted, pious. When Henry and Catherine wed in 1509, it was out of genuine love. Born and raised in Spain, Catherine truly came to love and admire her adopted country of England and its peoples. But her true duty was to provide England a son, an heir. But through many miscarriages and stillbirths, Catherine failed in her duty. Only a daughter, Princess Mary, survived. Fearing the country would dissolve into civil war should a woman assume the throne, Henry entered into true panic mode. Only a son would do. Catherine, several years older, was now past childbearing age. Henry had had plenty of mistresses with whom he had sired bastards, but now was different. He needed to remarry, so that he would have a son—a legitimate one that is. So he began trying to extricate himself from his marriage. Henry stressed a Biblical passage in Leviticus, which states that should a man marry his brother’s widow, the couple would be childless (Catherine had been married to Henry’s older brother Arthur in 1501; the sickly boy died months later). Henry claimed that his marriage to Catherine had to be invalid because of this, and that Catherine had not been a virgin when they married in 1509 (Catherine vehemently denied this). But despite all this, the Pope in Rome would not give his assent, which led Henry to eventually break away from the Church and declare himself the head of the Church of England. It plunged the country into the bloodbath known as The Reformation. Thousands were tortured and executed for refusing to acknowledge Henry as the Head of the Church of England, and the monasteries, longtime institutions of education and social assistance, were sacked.

Anne Boleyn was the woman Henry had become completely infatuated with. Born in England circa 1501, she was a lady in waiting to Queen Catherine. Anne stood out, both in looks and personality. Anne was the opposite of Tudor beauty standards; instead of being a buxom blonde, Miss Boleyn was dark haired and dark eyed, with olive skin and a willowy figure. She’d served at the courts of the Regent Margaret of Austria and later at the French court of King Francis I. She spoke French like a Frenchwoman, and dressed like a Frenchwoman. She was educated, and harbored views of religious reform. In a time when the Roman Catholic Church was the center of society, Anne’s ideas made her a rebel.

Henry was enchanted by this woman, unlike any other he’d met (or had bedded). He begged and begged Anne to become his mistress, but she flat out refused. Being mistress to the king had its benefits, as the woman and her family were often granted land, titles, and money. But Anne was different. She refused to engage in a physical relationship with him; instead, she’d set her sights on something much greater, the crown. Anne was sexy, and she was young: she could bear the king a son.

In January 1533, after years of waiting and arguing with Rome, the couple were finally married. Poor Catherine had been exiled to the dreariest of castles, and stripped of her title, though she never acknowledged this. Her daughter Princess Mary was declared a bastard, and the two were forbidden from seeing one another.

From the get go, the English public, and all of Europe, hated Anne. How dare some upstart commoner replace the rightful, blue-blooded Queen of England. Anne was slandered wherever she went: “whore” was a common epithet. Henry had defied the Pope, and in doing so had created his own Church: he was a heretic, and all because he just had to marry that French speaking slut.

Anne was crowned Queen the following June. Heavily pregnant with the King’s son as she and Henry assured themselves, Anne must have felt jubilant. But in September, Anne gave birth to a healthy girl: the future Queen Elizabeth I. Accounts differ as to how the royal couple reacted. Surely they must have been disappointed. Yet Anne had proved she was fertile, and within a year she was pregnant again. But Anne was to experience the same heartbreak as Catherine; she miscarried.

Anne must have felt on top of the world when Henry had become infatuated with her. But she had failed to realize that kings will be kings, and soon Henry was chasing and bedding other women, one of them her own cousin. Anne was furious. How dare he dally around, and she reprimanded him. It was a mistake. Catherine, pious and devoted wife she had been, had been well aware of Henry’s hookups. But she had never questioned or berated him for it; it was the way of the world, a double standard that still exists to this day.

But Anne was having none of it. She did not want to admit that Henry’s interest in her was quickly waning. She had to conceive a son, and quick. But she wouldn’t back off Henry for dallying around. He hated it, and coldly warned her she’d best not complain, as he who had risked everything to raise her so high, could just as quickly bring about her downfall. Anne had never been popular to begin with, and she had to watch her step, especially with Catherine’s allies on the European continent threatening England.

In January 1536, Catherine died. Rumors abounded that she’d been poisoned, by none other Anne Boleyn. She was pregnant once again, but the worst thing happened: she gave to birth to a stillborn baby boy. Henry was devastated. Anne, very likely suffering postpartum depression, continued to lash out at Henry. He had had enough: Anne had to go, so he could be free to remarry and finally have a male heir. Plotting with his chief minister Thomas Cromwell, Anne’s downfall was swift. In May of that year, Anne was arrested and sent to the bleak Tower of London. She’d been accused of committing adultery with several courtiers, one being her own brother. Anne staunchly denied the charges, but one of the men had confessed to the charges (while being tortured that is). Everyone was sentenced to death.

For all the hate Anne inspired, never had an English queen been sentenced to death. But Henry VIII meant it, and the five men, including Anne’s beloved brother, were beheaded on Tower Green. Little Princess Elizabeth was declared a bastard, and Henry’s marriage to Anne was annulled. For the woman who had loved all things French, she was to be beheaded in the “merciful” French manner via a sword. Unlike the clumsy (and often drunk) English axe man who dispatched victims while they placed their neck upon a wooden block, Anne would kneel upright on the scaffold for her death. Prior to her death she made her final confession: she swore she had never offended the King with her body, and that she was truly innocent. On the 19 May 1536, Anne mounted the scaffold steps and gave a final speech. Witnesses agreed that she appeared calm and dignified; she died like a queen. She was beheaded with a single stroke, and was buried in the Tower Chapel, St. Peter ad Vincula. Eleven days later, King Henry VIII was remarried, to Jane Seymour, the polar opposite of Anne in looks and character. Anne may have died, but her legend had only just begun…

Anne Fascination

Anne had lost her head, but her reputation never dissipated. To this very day she exudes a fascination unlike any of King Henry’s other wives. Who was this woman who held the King is such sway that he challenged the powers on Earth and Heaven, just so he could have her? And why, how did such ardor turn into calculated, murderous disgust? Anne is viewed many ways by many different people: a whore, a home wrecker, a gold digging bitch, an absolute heretic…or as a champion of religious reform, a feminist before her time, a strong, independent woman whose only crime was giving birth to a girl.

Time and place always affects viewers’ perceptions of others. As a 21st century American, I’m centuries and a whole continent removed from Anne’s sphere of being. I know I’ll never be able to fully understand just how all powerful religion was in Anne’s day. The Roman Catholic Church was the be all, end all. Everyone’s lives centered on God: how to become closer to God, to achieve salvation. The fact that Henry broke away from Rome was, and still is, HUGE. The reverberations of this are still hugely present, religiously, politically, socially, culturally: Catholics v. Protestants. Who is Right and who is Wrong. Very very much a simplification, but this divide…it’s still there.

For many modern day individuals, especially women, Anne is often viewed as an early feminist. One must be careful with this, as this term did not exist in Anne’s time. Were there women in Anne’s day who stressed womens’ rights? Yes indeed. One such example is Christine de Pizan, whose writings Anne may have encountered at the enlightened court of Margaret of Austria. The fact that Anne was so outspoken in an age were women were not to be seen or heard, marks her as different. A rebel. A woman not afraid to fight for what she wants. A woman who was a victim to the rampant misogyny of her times.

The concept as Anne Boleyn as a feminist is so strong that several websites and forums are dedicated to Anne, her life, and times. These sites stress that they want to right the wrongs; i.e., the misogynistic labels of Anne as whore, strumpet, home wrecker, etc.

There is absolutely no doubt Anne lived in an age and place where women were excluded of any rights at all. Misogyny was the order of the day. Unmarried, a woman belonged to her father, and once married, was property of her husband. What we now term spousal abuse was seen as a husband’s everyday right to discipline his wife. At royal courts, men, especially kings, were not only expected to have mistresses, but were often encouraged to have “other women.” A man could sleep around, no questions asked. But if a woman was so much suspected of having been “improper,” this could bring about devastating ramifications, just as what we see with Anne…double standard much?

Society, then and now, often likes to categorize women via labels. Two come to mind: saint or slut. There is no middle ground. She, whomever she may be, is either good or bad. End of story. Anne is not exempt from this. She is either the martyr, or the punished strumpet.

I view Anne as a woman who was certainly unconventional for her time. Her firmness in refusing to become Henry’s mistress, and instead aiming for the crown, reflect a woman of individual ambition: a trait not applauded in women in 16th century Europe. She was educated for the times, and was open to religious reform. Yet, Anne is no saint. Her horrible, absolutely horrible treatment of Catherine’s daughter Princess Mary makes me cringe. She treated Mary like dirt, making her a servant to her daughter Elizabeth. Mary, who had been publicly declared a bastard by her own father King Henry VIII, so that Elizabeth would be declared princess…I can’t imagine the agony, the indignation Mary suffered. This is not to excuse what Mary did during her reign as queen (she burned Protestant “heretics”), but I certainly hold Anne culpable in determining how Mary turned out.

And then, of course, the Reformation. How many thousands of innocents, holding steadfast to their faith, were put to death? It baffles the mind. I certainly understand why the English public loved Queen Catherine, as she was dignified, God fearing, a born leader. She had served as Regent when Henry was away in France; she presented her husband with the bloodied battle shirt of their defeated rival, the Scots King James IV. She had successfully defended England, her adopted country. And so why, how, could one woman drive Henry to abandon his ever loyal queen, a capable ruler in her own right?

Pro Anne fans always point out that Anne, in a posthumous way, got the last laugh. Her daughter, Elizabeth, became the greatest ruler of the Tudor dynasty, and one of the most successful monarchs in history. Though I do agree wholeheartedly with this, it does beg the question…what if Elizabeth had not been a successful ruler? What if she had lost England to the Spanish Armada of 1588? How then would we view Anne Boleyn? A failed queen who gave to birth to a failure of a daughter? What I call this concept is the “Elizabeth Lens,” in that by viewing Anne’s life via the life and successes of her daughter, Anne’s actions—her cruelty against Mary and Catherine—are rectified. No quite I say. One must recognize that Anne and Elizabeth, mother and daughter though they may be, are not one and the same.

Anne was, and is, human. She certainly was innocent of the charges brought against her, but she was truly inhuman towards Princess Mary. So many individuals went to their deaths for refusing to acknowledge her as Queen, and her daughter Elizabeth as heir. England fell into complete upheaval—religious, social, cultural—just so Henry could marry her, and the result was a true bloodbath. However, controversial and cruel she could be, I believe that Anne certainly did not deserve to die, not on trumped up charges. King Henry VIII is easily one of the bloodiest, cruelest monarchs Britain has endured, when one thinks how easily he dropped Anne from favor and into the grave. It is especially hard to accept that Henry would make his child, Elizabeth, motherless at less than three years of age…no wonder she never married.

In 2005, I visited the Tower of London. I stood before Traitor’s Gate (Coldharbor Gate in Anne’s time) where many of the condemned entered the Tower via the River Thames. I stood at or near the site of where the scaffold would have been (NOT the modern memorial; most likely the correct spot was in front of the Waterloo Barracks). But by far the most touching and powerful spot I visited was the Chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula, where so many of the Tower’s executed are buried.

Henry hadn’t bothered to provide Anne with a proper coffin for her remains. Instead, a chest used for bow staves served as a substitute. The chest was too short, so Anne’s head was tucked beside her. Her attendants placed her remains under the altar pavement, near or alongside the remains of her brother. In 1876, under orders from Queen Victoria, the chapel underwent a much needed renovation. The remains were exhumed and the Victorians did their best to identify the myriad of bones, before placing a memorial tile with Anne’s Boleyn name and crest, upon the floor. But without modern DNA/ forensic analysis, it’s questionable that the bones “identified” as Anne’s are truly hers. Regardless, I stood before Anne’s memorial tile and paid my respects. It was just my parents and I, and the Beefeater nearby who’d admitted us in.

I remember being in awe that I was standing right near where Anne’s earthly remains rest under the pavement. The woman who had changed the course of history, who had given birth to one of the greatest rulers…it was hard for my mind to fathom. Yet I distinctly remember feeling sorrow that Anne had suffered such an especially cruel, bloody end. To have your head struck off—! I pray it was quick, and that she is at peace.

Whatever, however, you think of Anne, one thing remains certain: her allure in both life and death will never fade. From fan sites to historical fiction to TV shows, Anne, in a way, never really died…She is very much alive in her afterlife, as both her detractors and fans continue to debate her life and times.

~LMC