In primary school we had a teacher called Sister Kevin, a sweet, elderly nun who was generous with sweets. Henry VIII brought out her dark side. It may have been the only history lesson she gave, but one I never forgot. She was talking about the death of Henry VIII, and she spoke with vindictive passion as she described his distended belly bursting in its coffin, its stench driving people out from the church. She may have been mixing up the story with a similar story referring to William the Conqueror’s funeral; it’s possible she would have told the same story when talking about Oliver Cromwell. But this small boy didn’t give a fig. The story made history interesting and has done ever since.
Years later, I too taught Henry VIII with, I hope, more accuracy and with different stories. Having explored the Reformation, the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the execution of Thomas More, some light relief is called for, and I found it in the love letters from him to Anne Boleyn.
The man was besotted, a lovelorn loon in heat.
These snippets from letters writing between 1527-28 indicate the power of his passion, one that would destroy the English Catholic church along with much stained glass.
(I wish) ‘truly to honour, love and serve you . . . praying you also that if ever I have in anyway done you offence, that you will give me …absolution …. henceforth my heart shall be dedicate to you alone, greatly desirous that so my body could be as well, as God can bring to pass if it pleaseth Him, whom I entreat once each day for the accomplishment thereof, trusting that at length my prayer shall be heard, wishing the time brief, and thinking it but long until we shall see each other again.
Written with the hand of that secretary who in heart, body and will is
Your loyal and most ensured servant,’
H. autre AB ne cherce R.’
Like a little schoolboy, he drew a heart around the letters AB.
When Anne falls ill, he is distraught. His gift to her is robust as befits an Englishman.
‘I send you this letter, praying you to advertise me of your well-being, the which I pray God may endure as long as I would mine own. And to the intent what you may the more remember me, I send you by this bearer a buck, killed by my hand late yesternight, trusting that as you eat of it you will have in mind the hunter.’
She may have preferred chocolate.
‘News has come to me suddenly tonight, the most displeasant that could be brought, for the which of three reasons I must needs lament. The first, to hear of the illness of my mistress, whom I do esteem more than all the world, whose health I desire as much as mine own, and the half of whose malady I would willingly bear to have you healed thereof…..’
H AB R
‘The cause of my writing now, good sweetheart, is only to understand of your good health and prosperity……and seeing my darling is absent, I can no less do than to send her some flesh representing my name, which is hart flesh for Henry, (promising) that hereafter, God willing, you must enjoy some of mine, which…I would I were now.’
Perhaps a little kinky.
‘…. wishing myself (especially an evening) in my sweetheart’s arms, whose pretty dukkys I trust shortly to kiss.’
Written with the hand of him that was, is, and shall be yours by his will.
HR
Dukkys . . . interesting term and clearly impeccable when one considers the trouble they caused.
Six years later a different passion took hold.
A small but tasteful monument on the spot where Anne was executed. The flowers are a nice touch.
It was gossiped that Henry may have been an unobtrusive witness from a nearby window, and that Anne may have even at that moment been hoping for a reprieve.
Her words were recorded by Edward Hall in his Chronicle The Triumphant Reign of Henry VIII:
‘Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. …And thus, I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul” And then she knelt down saying: “To Christ I commend my soul, Jesu receive my soul” divers times, till that her head was striken off with the sword. And on the Ascension Day following, the king wore white for mourning.’
And thinking of someone else's dukkys.
2 comments:
Anne's execution speech has always confounded me. I've never understood why she bore no malice toward Henry. After all, he could only kill her once.
It’s a puzzle all right. There are a few possibilities: she was for real / she was hoping fair words might get a reprieve./ the words were put in her mouth by the man who chronicled them. Then again how do the words sound said in a sarcastic tone?
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