The stranger came to Anne of Cleves in her chamber at Rochester on New Year’s Day, 1540. He was a huge man, thick through the shoulders, and he entered without announcement while she watched the bull-baiting from her window. He tried to draw her attention, and by some accounts he tried to take hold of her, to kiss her. Anne, a young woman alone in a room with an unknown man, did what any sensible woman would do.

She gave him no encouragement, and the encounter ended badly for both of them — because the stranger was Henry VIII of England, disguised, and he had expected his future bride to recognize him by the force of love, or something like it. He left in a fury, humiliated. Some historians believe that first meeting sealed Anne’s fate. If she would not admire him even when he was in disguise, then he decided he would not admire her either, whatever happened.

The rest, as they say, is history. Anne of Cleves came from a stubborn family. Her father, John, Duke of Cleves, was one of the most controversial figures of the Protestant Reformation, publicly infuriating the Pope and the Catholic kings of Europe. He raised Anne, her sisters, and her brother to think deeply and to be independent.

Since his divorce from his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, Henry had hated Catholicism and the Pope, so when Anne came of age, she caught his eye. But he did not get the response he hoped for. Anne was deeply attached to her mother, and their household full of women was a safe haven for the young girl. When Henry began his courtship, the lady of the house tried to prevent the marriage.

Henry was more liberal than his age, but few people realize how badly things stood for poor Anne. At twenty-four, she was mature for a royal bride, but Henry was nearly twice her age. He did not merely court Anne as a bride; he also considered her younger sister, Amalia, as a possible fourth wife. Perhaps if he had chosen Amalia, the disaster of his fourth marriage would never have happened.

In the late 1530s, Henry sent his court painter, Hans Holbein, on a strange mission. Still undecided between the two sisters, he ordered Holbein to paint both Anne and Amalia so he could choose his favorite. The instructions were specific: paint the girls accurately, without flattery, because he needed a beautiful queen. Holbein found the task difficult.

Both Anne and Amalia covered their faces with veils, following the conservative German customs of the time. The painter had to win their trust before the sisters would reveal their faces and allow themselves to be drawn. When Holbein returned and Henry saw the two portraits, he chose Anne over Amalia. But his motives were far from romantic.

Many historians agree the choice had little to do with looks. Anne, as the elder daughter, had more inheritance rights than her sister. Henry’s instruction to Holbein not to flatter contradicts the common story that the painter tricked the king with a flattering portrait of a plain woman. Still, as anyone who has used a dating site knows, you cannot infer everything from a picture — especially compatibility.

It is safe to say Henry was not happy when Anne entered the room. He complained about her appearance and blamed not only Holbein for exaggerating her looks but also his minister Thomas Cromwell, who had urged the marriage and praised her beauty. Henry’s reaction was recorded in history. “She is not as beautiful as she is said to be,” he grumbled.

But the royal marriage had already been set in motion, and there was no turning back. The wedding night was a catastrophe. The marriage of the unhappy couple was already doomed, and in the morning, the king complained. “I liked her before, but not much; now I like her much less.

” It was not simply a matter of Anne’s inexperience with intimacy — Henry preferred his wives innocent and submissive. Instead, he accused Anne of worse sins. He claimed that, besides being repulsed by her, she gave off such foul odors that he smelled them at inappropriate times. At the same time, he wanted a divorce on the grounds that the marriage had never been consummated, but he did not want anyone to think he was sexually impotent.

So he brought in a physician to justify his wishes. According to the doctor, His Majesty had suffered full nocturnal emissions, that is, wet dreams, even while sleeping with Anne for days without consummating the marriage. Henry and his advisers searched for a way to free the king from this ill-fated marriage. They seized on a betrothal from Anne’s childhood.

In 1527, at age eleven, Anne had been briefly engaged to another man, Francis of Lorraine. Henry tried to use her previous betrothal as proof that she had not been free to marry him. He staged a full trial to annul the marriage, and it was something of a circus. In the end, Henry got what he wanted again, and the short, painful marriage was formally annulled on July 9, 1540, after only six months — the shortest of all his marital ventures.

Anne may have felt relief at ending the marriage with her mind intact, but this was only the beginning of her turbulent history with Henry. Even while married to Anne, Henry had committed a cruel betrayal. Once he was certain Anne was not his wife, he immediately began searching for his next wife. His choice soon fell on the young Catherine Howard, and he married her within weeks of annulling his marriage to Anne.

Anne showed no public grudge toward Catherine Howard’s ascent to the throne. At the New Year celebrations of 1541, she gave her ex-husband and his new wife two thoroughbred horses and joined them in dancing. But her freedom from Henry did not spare her controversy. A malicious rumor spread through the palace in November 1541: Anne of Cleves had secretly given birth to a child, and some sources claimed it was the son of King Henry VIII.

Though the rumor was probably false, the crown took action. Henry opened an investigation and even arrested two people for claiming that Anne was his true wife and that they had consummated the marriage. In 1542, Anne found herself in trouble with Henry again. The king believed Queen Catherine Howard had betrayed him, and the poor girl was waiting for execution for treason, just like Anne Boleyn before her.

Henry, unwilling to suffer another separation alone, turned on Anne of Cleves. Their relationship was still friendly, thanks to Anne’s desire to keep her life, and Henry thought he could exploit her as he pleased. He sent her a letter ordering her to return a royal ring that Catherine Howard had given her. When Henry finally executed his fifth queen in 1542 for adultery, Anne was hiding a dark secret.

She may have viewed the execution as an opportunity rather than a tragedy. There is considerable evidence that Anne, after Catherine Howard’s tragic death, hoped to remarry Henry and convince him she would be as good a wife as she had been a close friend in recent years. But in the end, Henry chose Catherine Parr to be his sixth wife. Anne had received an excellent education fit for a European princess, and she was naturally intelligent, mastering English in a very short time.

But one thing was missing. During her upbringing, her conservative family discouraged her from pastimes like music, singing, and dancing. Henry had loved the arts all his life. Even if Anne could converse with the king in English, they probably found little to talk about.

As befits a cunning woman, Anne was on good terms with all of Henry’s children. She sent gifts to the king’s heir, Prince Edward, was close to Queen Mary I, and made an impression on Queen Elizabeth I, who bequeathed part of her jewelry collection to Anne upon her death. Anne understood exactly where power lay, and it paid off. Her late life was one of considerable comfort.

Thanks to her friendship with Henry’s children, she enjoyed a high rank at court in the reign of his daughter Queen Mary I, then retired to a quiet life away from the bustle of the city. Her closeness with Queen Mary was such that she likely attended the young queen’s coronation at Westminster Abbey. Henry proved a generous ex-husband to Anne, unlike most of his former spouses. After she agreed to the annulment, he gave her a compensation package that included good conduct, estates, and royal income.

He decided she would be the highest-ranking lady in England, second only to the king’s wife and daughters. He even adopted her nominally as his beloved sister. Did this make up for all the suffering he must have caused her? Probably not.

The real question is what Henry’s allegedly ugly wife looked like. The truth is she may well have been beautiful enough. Though she was tall with lovely blonde hair, her face was sullen, making her look older than her twenty-four years. Anne survived her marriage to Henry VIII, but others suffered darker fates.

Henry ordered the execution of Thomas Cromwell, the engineer of the marriage, for treason on the very day he married his fifth wife, Catherine Howard. The great irony of this story: if Henry hated Anne so much, why did he not step aside before it was too late? He was a powerful king of England; he could have annulled the marriage by simple decree. But the marriage was political, and it could not be annulled without angering his German allies.

Anne not only outlived Henry’s other queens; she outlived Henry himself. On July 16, 1557, a few months before her forty-second birthday, she died in England, her adopted country, probably of cancer. As the beloved aunt of Queen Mary I, she was buried in the legendary Westminster Abbey, though not in a prominent place. But Anne had one more surprise.

Despite the annulment of her marriage, her tomb was inscribed “Anne of Cleves, Queen of England. ” She is the only one of Henry’s wives buried in Westminster Abbey. Before her first meeting with Henry, there had been that disastrous stop at Rochester. Henry, disguised as a stranger, had tried to sneak a look at his future bride.

What exactly happened is disputed. Either Henry tried to get Anne’s attention and she politely ignored him, or he tried to kiss and touch her directly, causing the young woman, understandably, to raise an alarm about a strange man harassing her. In either case, the consequences were severe. Henry left angry and embarrassed, perhaps ready for revenge.

Even before that, Anne’s path had been marked by her family’s ways. She had been raised to think and to be independent in a house full of women, protected by a mother who tried to prevent the marriage altogether. The tragedy of Henry’s fourth queen was that she was never judged on her own terms, only against the king’s impossible expectations. In the end she survived him, kept her dignity, and carried the title of queen to her grave, the only one of his wives to rest in the abbey where English monarchs were crowned.

Anne Boleyn is remembered as the first queen of England to be publicly executed. The charges against her included adultery and witchcraft, but modern historians have uncovered a more complex story. In many ways, Anne Boleyn was born for greatness. Her father, Thomas Boleyn, was close to Henry VIII, and the Boleyn family was among the most prominent in Britain.

He was constantly traveling on diplomatic missions across Europe during her upbringing, which led Anne to a fateful meeting. In 1513, she served as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Mary of France, Henry VIII’s sister. With Mary’s help, Anne stayed in France for nearly seven years, absorbing its cosmopolitan culture and transforming into a sophisticated young woman. When she finally returned to England, the courtiers could not believe their eyes.

French culture at the time was so liberal it was almost scandalous, and Anne had certainly absorbed it. The English marveled at how strange and yet fashionable the young woman had become. She preferred the elegant French hood over traditional English headwear. According to most who met her, Anne Boleyn was extremely attractive — slender, dark, with long black hair and brown eyes.

Men found her utterly captivating. But she was not just beautiful; her friends knew her as a cheerful, clever, charming girl, often the smartest person in the room. Beneath that perfect exterior, however, she hid a darker side. She was moody, sharp-tongued, and quick to anger when she did not get what she wanted.

Once, during an argument with her uncle, she reportedly addressed him with words not fit even for dogs. That fiery temper would eventually land her in deep trouble with Henry. Her elder sister, Mary Boleyn, had caused quite a stir at court and proved a strong rival to Anne’s beauty. Henry, married to Catherine of Aragon, soon took Mary as his mistress.

But when Anne arrived at Henry’s court, she brought a secret weapon: her astonishing talent for dance. She was famous for it; no one could take their eyes off her. Her debut was spectacular on March 14, 1522, when she danced with her sister at a public wedding at the royal palace. Records show how magnificent she looked in white and gold.

This attracted the wrong kind of attention. Anne gained many admirers after her legendary dance, including King Henry himself. His affair with Mary Boleyn was coming to an end, and he wanted fresh meat from his favorite family. Here, Anne made her legendary move.

She did not pursue the king. She had another suitor in mind: the handsome Henry Percy, heir to the Earl of Northumberland. Anne devoted all her energy to winning his heart, not the king’s, and the two lived out a stormy love affair. She was so taken with Henry Percy that she made a decisive choice, one with grave consequences later.

After longing looks and letters, Anne and her lover secretly betrothed themselves. It seemed romantic, but there was a worrying reason for secrecy: Percy was officially engaged to another woman entirely. Worse, their families opposed them. Percy’s father refused to support the marriage, and Cardinal Wolsey, an important figure at court, gave them no support either.

In other words, they were crushed by royal authority. Exhausted, they were eventually forced to part. With his rival crushed, King Henry began pursuing Anne seriously in 1526. He sent her precious jewels like pearls and rubies, on condition she hide them from his wife Catherine.

His first gift was exceptional: a fine gold bracelet set with his portrait. Perhaps his vanity cooled her heart, for she showed little positive reaction. Henry used every trick in the book, but she was not interested. In fact, Anne explicitly refused to sleep with him.

Even when Henry promised to promote her from ordinary mistress to chief mistress, she refused. Her ambition was greater than mere mistress. She wanted Henry to annul his marriage to Catherine of Aragon and make her queen. The more Henry burned with desire, the more compliant he became.

As it turned out, Anne’s timing was perfect. When she appeared, Henry’s marriage was on the verge of collapse. Queen Catherine had given birth to Princess Mary, but the aging woman had not given Henry the male heir he craved. Henry began to entertain deranged thoughts: since Catherine had briefly been married to his elder brother Arthur before his death, God was angry at him for stealing his brother’s wife.

Surely this was why he had no son. Catherine swore she had never consummated the marriage with Arthur, but it did not matter. Henry sought an annulment, the only way the Catholic Church would approve his marriage to Anne Boleyn. When Henry began talking of casting Catherine aside, Anne was overjoyed.

She continued to keep Henry out of her bed but happily accepted his proposal of marriage. Both assumed exposing Queen Catherine would be easy. It was not. The common people refused to accept Anne, for they adored Catherine and blamed Anne for the collapse of her marriage.

As Anne’s influence grew, so did the grumbling; people called her cruel names and accused her of seducing Henry with witchcraft. The situation climaxed in a terrifying incident. One evening, near the Thames, Anne was attacked by a mob of angry women convinced she was ruining their king and country. Terrified, she had to flee by boat to save herself from their fury.

After seven long years of struggle with the church, the king had had enough. He dramatically broke from the Roman Catholic Church entirely and appointed himself head of the new Anglican Church. In 1533, it finally happened: Anne Boleyn became Queen of England, marrying Henry on January 25. Even after this great victory, she could not resist one last act of vengeance against Catherine.

She made sure her coronation outdid those of previous queens. Beginning June 1, 1533, the event lasted four glorious days, during which Anne wore a series of magnificent outfits. On the final day, she wore a memorable dress dyed royal purple and embroidered with ermine. In response to the many angry protests against the king’s choice, she adopted a motto: “Grudge who list, this is my lot.

” At that time, she was pregnant, Queen of England, and more powerful and vain than ever. After her coronation, Anne settled into royal life and prepared to give birth to Henry’s long-awaited son. All signs pointed to a boy. Most of the king’s astrologers said the stars indicated a male heir, and Anne and Henry were confident.

But in September 1533, she gave birth to a healthy child — a girl, the future Queen Elizabeth I. The shock staggered the royal couple. Henry canceled the ceremonial jousting match planned for the birth of a boy, and court scribes hastily changed the title of prince to princess in the official announcement. They did not realize it was the beginning of the end.

When Anne did not immediately give Henry a male heir, his patience ran out. He began to resent her sharp intelligence and sharp tongue, demanding she submit to him as a wife, not an equal partner. Over the next three years, Anne became pregnant several times, but each time it ended in tragic miscarriage. Throughout, Henry grew more distant, regretting the marriage.

There were more serious problems. The king had always been inclined to infidelity, and when his marriage to Anne began to crack, he turned his attention elsewhere — to the beautiful, gentle, relatively submissive Jane Seymour, who would eventually become his third wife. A disgusting detail: Jane was also Anne’s second cousin. But despite the kinship, Anne and Jane were not close.

Anne was not naive; she knew something was developing between Henry and Jane before her very eyes. One day at court, Jane began opening and closing an ostentatious necklace right in front of Anne. When Anne realized what was happening, she tore the chain so violently she cut her fingers. Another evening, Anne entered a room to find her treacherous cousin sitting gracefully on her husband’s lap.

She flew into a public rage. Shortly afterward, Anne miscarried again, losing the child she so desperately wanted for Henry. When the attendants looked at the infant, they saw it was a boy. When Henry VIII turned on Anne Boleyn at last, his malice was swift and brutal.

Within days of losing his narcissistic love for Anne, he installed Jane at the royal residence. Then he set about the bloodiest stage of his plan. The king arrested and interrogated a series of courtiers who knew Anne, accusing them of sleeping with his wife. He even arrested Anne’s brother George, accusing him of having an affair with his own sister.

Anne was finally tried. As she stood with her brother, facing a similar trial the same day, the crown accused her of everything from witchcraft to conspiring to kill Henry so she could marry again. A jury of twenty-seven men convicted her on all charges and sentenced her to death. One detail from her trial was particularly painful.

When Anne looked into the eyes of the jury, she saw a familiar face: Henry Percy, her old love, the man she had tried to marry years before. The jury’s verdict was unanimous, meaning Percy had sent his former lover to the scaffold himself. The decision destroyed him. When an aide read the decree, Percy collapsed to the floor, so overcome he had to be carried from the room.

He never recovered and died childless eight months later. In her final days in the Tower, visitors described Queen Anne’s strange calm, even happiness. She was heard joking with a guard about her swordsman. “I heard he is very skilled, and my neck is very small,” she said, trying to reassure him.

On May 19, 1536, Anne Boleyn walked to her execution. Even as she awaited the swordsman’s blade, she never insulted King Henry nor admitted any guilt. She had another cunning but noble reason: she did not want her family to suffer more if Henry tried to punish them after her death. As her final moments approached, she kept her composure.

While her ladies wept, she asked them to blindfold her, then knelt before the block — a classic French style of execution. Anne had prepared every detail. The swordsman proved worthy of his fee: one stroke cut off the head of the Queen of England. But that did not mean she was gone.

Henry tried hard to forget Anne, installing Jane Seymour in the palace just eleven days after the execution. But it was not so simple. He had such difficulty erasing Anne Boleyn’s memory that he ordered all her portraits destroyed. No contemporary paintings of her survive.

In the end, whether he loved her or hated her, the king could not easily forget the woman who was Anne Boleyn. Most people see Queen Jane Seymour as a calm angel who finally gave King Henry VIII a son. Sadly, her real story is darker. Jane was born around 1508 to Sir John Seymour, a wealthy and distinguished man, and his wife Margery, likely at the famous Wolf Hall, a sign of her family’s superior wealth.

The Seymours were extremely ambitious. Jane’s brothers Edward and Thomas became close advisers to the king, often directing their naive sister in the most cunning methods of politics and seduction of powerful men. It paid off many times over. In her youth, Jane nearly won the heart of William Dormer, but his mother broke off the engagement, believing Jane was not noble enough.

Jane then entered into a relationship with Henry VIII in a scandalous way. She began as a lady-in-waiting to the first queen, Catherine of Aragon, in her late teens or early twenties. At that time, Henry’s relationship with Catherine was in a wretched state after she failed to give him a male heir. It was not long before young Jane realized she was caught in a dangerous trap.

Henry did not fall in love with Jane at first sight. During her early years of service, he was deeply infatuated with Anne Boleyn. Poor Jane watched from afar as Henry cast off Catherine, ignored her, and married Anne in 1533. Though Anne Boleyn had a captivating charm, Jane Seymour was no less beautiful.

Some considered her “not very pretty,” but others described her as the most beautiful of the king’s wives. While Anne was mysterious and attractive, Jane radiated a quiet confidence that crept into you without notice. Some described her as “the gentlest woman I ever knew. ” She earned the nickname “the Peaceful” for her apparent calm at court.

Whether genuinely kind or not, Jane knew how to play the game of thrones and survive Henry’s cruel court. She even betrayed Catherine of Aragon selfishly. Though Jane had always admired Catherine, she smoothly moved into the position of Anne Boleyn’s lady-in-waiting once Anne became queen. It was the perfect place for a queen-maker.

Very early in Henry’s marriage to Anne, the king visited the Seymour home on royal business and spent time talking with the family. Some say that while Henry was there, Jane finally caught his attention. If true, he admired her for several months before acting on it. Henry’s infatuation with Anne did not last.

Just like Catherine before her, Anne did not give him the male heir he craved, and the king’s eyes turned directly back to Jane Seymour. By 1536, everyone at court knew he was pursuing her. When Henry VIII finally noticed Jane, she was about twenty-seven, in the prime of her womanhood, as Henry thought. Society had a different view.

Since women matured early, married quickly, and often died young, Jane’s age placed her in the category of spinster, raising scandalous suspicions. One ambassador at Henry’s court accused Jane of hiding a dark secret, claiming it was impossible she was still a virgin after spending so much time in Henry’s palaces. He hinted that Henry wanted Jane exactly that way because it would give the king grounds for a divorce later. As we shall see, he may have been partially right.

In many ways, Jane was different from Henry’s other wives. Though from a noble family, she was lower in rank than both Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, and her education was not on the same level. Rather than being well-versed in language and literature, she could barely read and write. That did not deter her.

Henry VIII, dissatisfied with his marriage to Anne, began courting Jane at court occasions and balls. He showered her with precious gifts in secret from Anne Boleyn. In his typical narcissistic fashion, he gave Jane a magnificent necklace bearing his image. Jane may have seemed sweet, but she knew how to hurt Anne.

She paraded her flirtation with Henry in front of Anne, and she was not tactful about it. One day she began opening and closing her necklace right in front of Anne, showing the queen glimpses of Henry’s face around her neck. Anne’s reaction was historic. In a violent royal quarrel, she ripped the necklace from Jane’s neck with such force that the chain cut her fingers and made them bleed.

Jane was a master at building relationships. She knew how to win people to her side without seeming to manipulate them, and she knew whom to win over. In particular, she was a friend to Catherine of Aragon’s daughter, the future Queen Mary, who hated Anne Boleyn. They waited together for Anne’s fall.

Though Jane was fond of her new royal lover, she had to be very careful. Queen Anne was pregnant in early 1536. If she gave birth to a boy, Jane’s dreams would be in danger. If not, that was another story.

Jane played an active role in the course of history. Pregnant Anne was fully aware of her husband’s new affair and was not happy. One afternoon, according to one account, Anne entered a room and saw a terrible sight: pretty young Jane sitting on her husband’s lap, charming him. Anne flew into a rage, and the consequences were severe.

The fit of jealousy caused Anne to miscarry her precious child at less than four months. Worst of all, it was a boy. Everyone, including Jane, realized this was the beginning of the end for Anne Boleyn. As one commentator put it, she had miscarried her savior.

While Anne recovered from the physical and psychological shock of her miscarriage, Jane and her family moved into royal residences, a significant step up. She was one step closer to the throne. In fact, the move was a clever facade. Henry moved Jane’s brother and his wife into rooms adjacent to his own, using a secret passage to visit Jane under the eyes of indulgent guards.

With Jane beside his bedroom, Henry formally declared that Anne had bewitched him and proceeded to charge her with a variety of outrageous crimes, including treason. Then, on May 19, 1536, Jane received the news she had been waiting for. Queen Anne Boleyn had gone to the scaffold. Jane had reached her destiny.

Henry and Jane did not wait for Anne’s body to cool. The royal couple got engaged on May 20, 1536, one day after Anne’s execution. They announced their marriage ten days later and wed in a relatively private ceremony at Whitehall Palace on May 30. Jane was attractive enough for Henry, but he may have married her for a different reason: she came from a large family with nine children, and Henry hoped Jane would inherit their fertility when she became a mother.

The beginning of Jane’s reign was an ill omen for the rest of her tragic story. Henry wanted her crowned, but plague was spreading in London, and he kept postponing the coronation for safety. Some experts say the king was merely hedging his bets until Jane gave him a son. Queen Jane issued a decree requiring her ladies-in-waiting to follow strict rules of conduct: they were to be chaperoned and to think only of serving God and being virtuous.

She had started as a lady-in-waiting herself before becoming Henry’s mistress, so she may have felt insecure around her husband. But she took it further. She canceled the lavish court parties Anne Boleyn had loved, and she practically banned Anne herself. Anne had been famous for her fine taste in fashion borrowed from French styles; Jane banned those styles too.

She also made strange demands. Queen Jane knew her worth and insisted her ladies submit to a series of conditions just for the honor of attending her. To appear before the queen, a woman had to wear a pearl belt with at least 120 gemstones. If they did not, Jane simply refused to look at them.

Six months after her royal wedding, Jane was pregnant with Henry’s child. Finally, it was her turn to prove she was not like the others. But she was in for an unpleasant surprise. Around Christmas of 1536, she suffered a miscarriage.

She had a stubborn, strong will and wasted no time returning to Henry’s bed. Less than a month later, she was pregnant again, and this pregnancy would change the course of history. Henry had divorced one wife and beheaded another for failing to produce a male heir, and his illegitimate son had died the same year as their marriage. Her life depended greatly on the sex of the child.

Henry spared no effort to make Jane happy, comfortable, and healthy during her second pregnancy. When the queen craved quail, the king ordered the finest quail imported to satisfy her midnight snack cravings. He was determined she not miscarry again, so he retired her from all public duties by summer 1537, forcing her into deadly loneliness. She had almost no social engagements, and her days were filled with doctors and midwives instead of friends.

By September, she was in complete isolation awaiting the birth. Jane went into labor in early October 1537, but nothing went as expected. Historians now believe her baby was in an awkward position, and the labor was a terrifying, painful ordeal lasting two days and three nights, with Jane knowing she might die. At two in the morning on October 12, 1537, Jane Seymour finally gave birth.

The child was a healthy boy. Jane and the king named him Edward, the future Edward VI. Medicine was still in its infancy in that century, so it is difficult to determine exactly what went wrong after Jane’s long labor. All that is certain is that things went very wrong.

On October 16, a few days after the birth, accounts describe Jane suffering from a relaxation in labor. These were the first signs of the end. Though she improved for a few days, by Friday, October 19, she was very ill, and her health declined sharply over the weekend. By Monday, her caretakers realized she was in grave danger.

Henry hurried to her bedside the next night; it was his last farewell to her. Many theories have attempted to explain what Jane suffered after the birth. The mystery remains today, but there is some troubling evidence. Some modern historians believe Jane may have developed a bacterial infection, while others suggest she retained the placenta.

The most compelling evidence comes from a contemporary report, the only one that describes Jane’s illness. It blamed those around her for allowing her to catch a severe chill and eat things she craved because of her sickness. In other words, she caught a cold and could not eat proper food. According to academic expert Alison Weir, this document suggests Jane’s illness may have begun innocently as food poisoning, which would explain the concern about the kinds of food Seymour was eating.

But as for the severe chill, Weir suggests a more complex explanation: Jane’s cold may actually have been signs of a pulmonary embolism flowing to her heart, especially if the already weakened Jane was rushing to the bathroom to vomit from food poisoning. The clot could have caused shortness of breath and other symptoms that appeared like a cold. The saddest part is that a pulmonary embolism is not necessarily fatal. Jane was simply unlucky.

Whatever the cause, the end came quickly. On October 24, 1537, Jane Seymour died in her bed at two in the morning, about the same time she had given birth to her long-awaited son Edward just days before. Jane, age twenty-nine, had been Queen of England for less than two years. Even Henry, merciless as he was, was so shaken by Jane’s passing that he could barely endure it.

For the first time in his life, he genuinely mourned a wife. He wore black for three full months and delayed marriage for two years after Jane’s death. But it would take a decade for him to offer the most moving tribute. When Henry died in 1547, ten years after Jane, his last wish was that he be buried beside her.

For Henry, Jane remained always his true queen. Catherine Parr, Henry’s last wife, hid a devastating secret, one that nearly cost her life. Fearing she would meet the same fate as the wives before her, she saved herself with a clever trick. For a woman of Tudor England, Catherine Parr lived a truly unique life.

With four husbands, she is considered the most married queen in the country. Catherine grew up as the eldest daughter of her strong-willed mother, Maud Green, a formidable single woman entrusted by the queen with running the court school. Like her mother, Catherine was highly intelligent. She had a passion for languages, mastering French, Latin, and Italian.

When she became queen, she also took time to learn Spanish and eventually wrote the first book ever published by a woman in English, a remarkable achievement. As a young girl, Catherine made a strange prophecy about her future. The story goes that she hated the monotony of embroidery and would tell her mother, “My hands are destined to touch crowns and scepters, not spindles and needles. ” At seventeen, she married for the first of four times.

The groom was Sir Edward Borough, a suitable match from a wealthy family, but he was in poor health and died only four years into the marriage, at age twenty-one. Catherine became a young, childless widow. A year later, in 1534, she married John Neville, the third Baron Latimer, a wealthy man twice her age. This marriage exposed her to grave danger.

During the Northern uprisings of 1536, Catherine and her stepchildren were taken hostage. The rebels told Lord Latimer he must return home or they would kill Catherine and his children. Latimer somehow persuaded the rebels to release them. Their return was a miracle, but their easy release raised suspicions, including the king’s.

Was Catherine’s husband a true victim or a collaborator with the northerners? Though no charges were brought against Lord Latimer, the damage was done. His reputation was irreparably tarnished, and the family fled south to avoid trial by their peers. Shortly after, Lord Latimer fell ill and died in 1543, leaving Catherine a childless widow again.

At thirty-one, she was finally wealthy enough to marry on her own terms. She had strong connections that helped her return to the right social circles. Her mother had been a friend of Henry VIII’s first wife, Catherine of Aragon, and Catherine herself had been close to Henry’s eldest daughter Mary. When Catherine entered Mary’s social circles, she caught Henry VIII’s attention.

It was an awkward situation, since Catherine was only four years older than Mary and had met Henry when she was a child. This did not stop the king from scrutinizing her, and he liked what he saw. With her sparkling hazel eyes and tall stature — some sources say she stood 178 centimeters, a remarkable height for a Tudor woman — she stood out. Henry was tall too, and perhaps he liked the idea of finally finding someone who matched his height.

But Henry was not the only man interested in her. Thomas Seymour, brother of the king’s third wife, was a strong rival for her heart. Catherine was genuinely in love with him, and serious discussions of marriage began. This enraged Henry, who wanted Catherine for himself and could not bear the thought of losing her to another man.

When he asked her to become his sixth wife, Catherine was placed in an awkward position. Though she felt Thomas Seymour was the love of her life, it was clear that refusing the king would be dangerous. Seymour was, by all accounts, handsome and charming, close to Catherine’s age. Henry had none of those qualities by then.

For Catherine, the rational choice won over the emotional one. A letter she wrote refusing Seymour reveals her true feelings. “I was quite determined to marry you before any man I know. How has God made this impossible?

” she wrote. Henry had plans for Catherine Parr even before her second husband died. He sent her gifts of damask and sleeves along with elegant Italian dresses. They married on July 12, 1543, only four months after her husband’s death.

Catherine became the first Queen of England to also hold the title Queen of Ireland. Anne of Cleves, the fourth wife, was still alive, favored, and living in England. She hated Catherine Parr. While Anne had been on good terms with the fifth wife, Catherine Howard, she did not think much of the sixth.

Anne did not believe Catherine was beautiful enough to replace her. “Lady Catherine has taken this position very seriously,” she said cuttingly. Catherine paid little attention to the insult. Unlike Anne, she proved to be a skilled nurse to Henry, both physically and psychologically.

She not only soothed his leg ulcers and treated them herself, but also convinced him to finally give up his vanity and wear his reading glasses — a great achievement for the wife of a defiant king. Catherine’s official motto as queen was “To be useful in all I do. ” Her Protestant leanings were obvious. She secured the release of several Protestant prisoners and placed leading Protestant scholars in her stepson Prince Edward’s household, ensuring a future for the reformers.

These maneuvers would have grave consequences later. Though Catherine’s marriage to Henry was solid, those close to the king were used to constant change, given the number of wives who had come before. In 1546, a plot failed to replace her with a new queen. Mary Howard, the king’s daughter-in-law, had recently been widowed.

Another plot was brewing. Mary’s brother had plans for her: he wanted her to marry Thomas Seymour, Catherine’s former love, and then become King Henry’s mistress. What a mess! Fortunately for Catherine, she was well loved, especially by her stepchildren.

Elizabeth, the future Elizabeth I, was the stepchild to whom Catherine was closest because they shared a love of learning and languages. At age eleven, Elizabeth presented her father and stepmother with a translation of Catherine’s prayers or meditations in French, Italian, and Latin. Catherine took charge of Elizabeth’s care after Henry’s death. She was known for reuniting the royal family that Henry had torn apart with his many battles.

Prince Edward, the king’s only surviving son, loved his new stepmother. When he was only nine, he encouraged her to improve her Latin and asked her to care for his Catholic sister Mary, who had been kept away from evil influences. It is generally believed Catherine had great influence on the Protestant knowledge and leanings of Edward and Elizabeth Tudor. Before Henry VIII died in 1547, he made many arrangements for Catherine’s future.

Among them, a decree that she would have custody of his youngest daughter, thirteen-year-old Elizabeth Tudor. She also adopted another diligent royal girl, the future Nine Days Queen, Lady Jane Grey. Without knowing it, Catherine tutored two queens of England. In 1547, Henry VIII lay on his deathbed, and his last words to Catherine were deeply moving.

He thanked God for finally giving him a faithful wife. He showed his gratitude by bequeathing Catherine an annual pension of 7,000 pounds — worth millions today — along with the right to keep all the queen’s jewels and dresses. He died clearly grateful to her. On January 28, 1547, Henry formally died, leaving Catherine a dowager queen.

She was supposed to care for his daughter Elizabeth and stay close to her beloved stepson Edward. But a scandalous decision tore the family apart forever. Catherine had no role in her stepson’s reign, partly because of her scandalous marriage to her lover Thomas Seymour less than four months after Henry’s death. The king had not waited long between his marriages, so why should she?

At thirty-five, Catherine became pregnant for the first time. She had not conceived in her first three marriages, so this was a pleasant surprise. She was finally pregnant by the love of her life. But by this point, her fairy-tale marriage to Thomas had turned into a nightmare.

After moving in with Catherine, Thomas began showing his true colors. He was obnoxious. He began behaving improperly with her young stepdaughter Elizabeth Tudor, surprising the girl in her bed at odd hours as a joke and even trying to kiss her. At first, Catherine dismissed his interest as innocent, even joining in his antics and helping hold Elizabeth down while he tickled her.

But one time, her husband ended up tearing the girl’s dress as a joke, which was clearly more than a warning sign. As Catherine’s pregnancy progressed, her husband’s interest in Elizabeth became increasingly inappropriate until the situation finally exploded. In May 1548, tensions reached their peak when Catherine found Thomas and Elizabeth embracing. What exactly happened is unclear, but it certainly ended with Elizabeth being sent away from her favorite stepmother’s home.

Perhaps she was sent for her own protection, or to remove her as a third party in Catherine’s desperate pursuit of marital happiness, or to preserve everyone’s reputation, or a combination of all three. Catherine and Elizabeth never saw each other again, a sad end to a once-strong relationship. Shortly after, Catherine gave birth to her only child, Mary Seymour, in late August 1548. What should have been the happiest day of her life soon turned to tragedy.

She suffered postpartum complications and died just eight days later, at age thirty-six. Though she was known as the only survivor, Catherine outlived Henry VIII by less than two years. Her end was made more sorrowful by her miraculous escape from the executioner’s sword. Catherine was aware of the fates of the wives before her.

She knew she was playing a dangerous game with Henry, and to avoid his wrath, she had to conceal a dark secret: she was a Protestant, putting her in direct opposition to her husband. In 1546, Lord Chancellor Thomas Wriothesley and the Catholic faction at court conspired to expose her heresy. This involved entrapping her with Anne Askew, a preacher who was also Protestant. Anne Askew was arrested for heresy and rumors circulated that Catherine sympathized with her.

During her interrogation, Anne Askew became the first woman recorded in history as a victim of persecution in the Tower of London. Many suspected this was a scheme to expose Catherine and her close ladies as Protestants. It did not work — Anne Askew was burned without implicating the queen. But that did not end the danger to Catherine.

In 1546, Henry’s suspicions about Catherine’s radical beliefs were inflamed by a religious argument between them. He became convinced of her heresy and signed a warrant for the arrest of his sixth wife. Rumors spread that Henry had returned to spying on her and that the other woman was Catherine Brandon, widow of his late close friend and also Catherine’s close friend and lady-in-waiting. The whispers came to nothing.

It is generally agreed that by this point, Henry’s sexual appetites had likely been weakened by his lifestyle. Why was Henry VIII not known as the king who executed half his wives? Catherine was very lucky. Somehow, her arrest warrant fell in front of her own door, perhaps placed there by one of her allies.

This early warning saved her life, something her condemned predecessors like Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard never received. Armed with news of her impending arrest, Catherine devised a plan. She defended herself against Henry’s wrath with the strongest weapon: extreme humility and submission to his vanity. The next time Henry spoke to her about religion, Catherine claimed she had only argued with him to distract him from the pain of his festering leg ulcers.

She also craved his wisdom. After all, she said, she was just a woman with all the natural faults of her weak sex. Despite her extensive education and literary career, Catherine never claimed to know more about religion than her husband, and he believed her. When the Lord Chancellor and guards came to execute the arrest warrant while she was before the king, Henry angrily ordered them to leave, saving her life.

After the king’s death, Catherine finally felt safe enough to declare her Protestantism. This is evident in her last book, “The Lamentation of a Sinner” (1547), in which she defended the doctrine of salvation by faith alone, then considered radical. These beliefs contradicted the Catholic Church and, more importantly, her last husband Henry VIII. But waiting until Henry’s death to declare her full beliefs is entirely understandable, given what happened to the wives before her.

Catherine Howard is said to have cried, “I die a queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpeper,” referring to her unfaithful lover. That is just a myth. Her real last words were more painful. As the fifth wife of Henry VIII, Queen Catherine Howard reigned for about a year and a half.

She was the second English queen executed for adultery and treason, after her cousin Anne Boleyn. Catherine’s story is more tragic than Anne’s, but the details of her early life remain obscure. We do not know the year of her birth, though people generally believe it was around 1523. We do not even know her birth order in her large family — perhaps she was the fifth child of her father, but the tenth of her mother.

Despite her aristocratic lineage, Catherine spent most of her childhood in poverty and tragedy. Her father, Edmund Howard, was the youngest son of a duke, one of twenty-one children. Catherine had chestnut hair, was short, with fair skin, meeting the beauty standards of early modern Europe. People described her face as delicate and serious.

Only the French ambassador Charles de Marillac dissented, calling her middling in beauty. She had inherited the distinctive Howard nose, with a characteristic curve at the tip. Catherine was not the best educated of Henry’s queens. With her impoverished upbringing, she lacked the means for many achievements.

She could read and write — though letter writing would contribute to her downfall — and she could dance and play music. Since medieval records are notoriously sparse, we do not always have reliable information about the personalities of Henry’s queens. Catherine Howard is the exception. Almost everyone agreed that from a young age, Catherine was cheerful and active.

No one ever described her as religious or fond of reading. She loved dancing and practiced whenever she had the chance, but even dancing could not hold her attention long. She was often distracted during dance lessons and would start cracking jokes. With proper guidance, her many talents might have matured well.

But her father was absent most of her life, and her mother died in 1528 when Catherine was about five. She moved in with her step-grandmother, Agnes Howard, who housed many girls at Lambeth. This was not a disciplined upbringing. Agnes was an elderly woman, frequently away at court in London, and generally unconcerned with those in her care.

This neglect left Catherine dangerously vulnerable. She joined a group of older girls who sneaked men into their bedrooms at night. In return for sexual favors, the men gave them gifts of wine, food, and other delicacies. Catherine then moved from one risky situation to an even more scandalous one.

As a teenager, she served as a lady-in-waiting to Henry’s fourth queen, Anne of Cleves. While the king did not take to his new German bride, he was taken with Anne’s beautiful young attendant. Henry claimed he had never seen anyone like Catherine. Within months of beginning her court career, she became the king’s mistress.

Henry was middle-aged, about thirty years older than her seventeen years. But she reaped the rewards of his attention and gifts, as did her family. According to some experts, Catherine’s ambitious uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, may have pushed her into Henry’s arms, manipulating his niece’s feelings and the king’s to gain more influence over the kingdom. If so, his plans bore fruit tenfold.

Henry annulled his marriage to Anne of Cleves on July 9, 1540, and married Catherine nineteen days later, on July 28, amid a scandal. The marriage coincided with the execution of Thomas Cromwell for high treason. Cromwell had engineered Henry’s marriage to Anne of Cleves, and its failure led to his downfall and his death. In hindsight, this was an ill omen.

Catherine’s official motto as queen was “No other will but his,” a display of royal obedience, beautiful as it was strategic. But in hindsight, it foretold her brutal and early end. The marriage began well. The royal couple spent a lavish honeymoon across England.

The king was ill and overweight, but Catherine revived him, and it was said he fulfilled her every wish. Like her famous cousin Anne Boleyn, Catherine loved French fashions, and Henry gave her an abundance of new French dresses, generally more fashionable and attractive than traditional English ones. Her motto “No other will but his” was embroidered in gold on the edges of her sleeves. But in the winter following their wedding, King Henry showed his violent side.

His legs were covered in ulcers, and the excruciating pain made him depressed and angry by turns. He was not an easy husband. Catherine’s relationship with her stepdaughter Mary Tudor, Henry’s daughter by Catherine of Aragon, was very strained. Catherine was seven years younger than Mary, and Mary had not married while Catherine was Queen of England.

Disputes simmered throughout their marriage; Catherine once dismissed two of Mary’s ladies from court to isolate the princess. But there was a glimmer of hope in Henry’s family. Catherine seemed fond of Henry’s daughter by Anne Boleyn, the future Elizabeth I, to whom she was closely related. The seven-year-old girl, often neglected, was given a special place at her stepmother’s dinner table, and Catherine made sure to invite Elizabeth to court.

Despite her youth, her inexperience as queen, and her recent reputation as a giddy girl, there is evidence Catherine was intelligent, if not well educated. She played a key role in persuading King Henry to release the poet Sir Thomas Wyatt from prison. This was not Wyatt’s first arrest — he had been held as a suspect during Anne Boleyn’s trial. Catherine’s success suggests she had significant political potential that was never given the chance to develop.

But before Catherine could settle into court life, everything collapsed, almost by accident. The information came from a figure buried deep in her past. A man named John Lassells knew that his sister Mary had known Catherine in her Lambeth days, and he asked why she had not petitioned the queen for a position at court. Mary replied that she was not impressed by Catherine’s “merry” ways when she knew her, meaning her inclination toward flirtation.

John grew suspicious of his queen and reported this to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer. To say this opened a Pandora’s box would be an understatement. Cranmer was primarily interested in reform, and because Catherine belonged to a prominent Catholic family, he felt the queen would never support his cause. He was motivated to bring her down, and over the next few months, he gradually set about doing so.

As the archbishop investigated the claims, Catherine’s old friends from her grandmother’s household began to talk, and the information shocked the clergyman. According to his sources, when Catherine was about thirteen, she began a relationship with a music teacher much older than her, named Henry Manox. Since Catherine was barely into her teens while Manox was a man of thirty-six, most modern historians believe he exploited the young girl. Catherine herself stated, “As a young girl, I allowed him repeatedly to touch the intimate parts of my body.

” Though both claimed the relationship was never consummated. Unfortunately, this was not Catherine’s only secret. Those who knew her also claimed that after Manox, she had an affair with Francis Dereham, about ten years older, who worked on her grandmother’s farm. This relationship was said to have been consummated.

They called each other husband and wife and had a pre-contract of marriage until Catherine’s grandmother discovered the relationship and banned Dereham from the farm. He eventually traveled to Ireland. Some speculate the couple exchanged marriage vows, though Catherine later denied it. Whether true or not, it had catastrophic implications.

Upon hearing all this, Archbishop Cranmer went to the queen’s lady-in-waiting, Jane Boleyn, to ask about Catherine’s conduct with Manox and Dereham. But he received more than he expected. Suddenly, Jane Boleyn broke down and told Cranmer about Catherine’s relationship with someone Cranmer had not known about. Even as queen, Catherine had been hiding a devastating secret.

When she was still a lady-in-waiting to Anne of Cleves, the handsome Thomas Culpepper, one of King Henry’s close attendants, had also courted Catherine. She had even considered marrying him until Henry appeared. When she became queen, her relationship with Culpepper did not end. Historians still debate how much contact Catherine and Thomas had before and after she became Queen of England.

Without doubt, the romantic side of their relationship had great impact. The relationship remained strong while Catherine slept with Henry. Culpepper and Queen Catherine held secret meetings frequently, arranged by her lady-in-waiting Jane Boleyn. During these meetings, they talked and touched, and perhaps more.

Now the Archbishop of Canterbury knew about all of it. Pressure mounted, and investigators obtained permission to search Catherine’s rooms thoroughly. What they found was the final blow: a letter from Catherine to Thomas Culpepper. Its contents buried her.

In the fateful letter, Catherine wrote, “When I think again that you will part from me again, my heart breaks with grief at how fortunate I am that I cannot stay with you always. ” She signed it, “Yours as long as life endures. ” That life did not last long. At first, Henry did not believe his beloved fifth wife could betray him.

When he received the accusation against Catherine, he insisted the evidence was forged and ordered a special investigation to clear her name. But Henry soon changed his mind about her innocence, and he began to soothe his wounded pride by accusing her of high treason for adultery. When the arrest warrant for Catherine was issued, Henry arranged, with great ease, to be at a church for prayer. This way he appeared very religious, even merciful, as he signed the order sacrificing his wife’s life.

According to one account, the arrest could not have been carried out more horribly. Catherine briefly escaped her captors and ran to where King Henry was attending Mass. Before she could reach the door and beg for her life, the young queen was dragged back to her apartments. Whether true or not, when Catherine learned she was being arrested after the investigation, her reaction was heartbreaking.

She was in such distress that she almost lost her composure, and the archbishop feared she might harm herself. He ordered servants to remove all sharp objects from her rooms to protect her. It is hard to blame her. Catherine knew what Henry had done to her cousin Anne.

While Henry’s men held Thomas Culpepper and interrogated him, he claimed he and Catherine had abstained from sex. However, he admitted things were heading strongly in that direction, confessing he had intended to harm the queen and that she had reciprocated his feelings. Henry was furious that Catherine had not truly loved him and had fallen for one of his favorites. He stripped Catherine of her title as queen on November 23, 1541.

She spent the rest of the winter under the king’s supervision in a former monastery. Henry made sure to take revenge on both Thomas Culpepper and Catherine’s former lover Francis Dereham. Culpepper was beheaded honorably on December 10, 1541. Dereham, who had done nothing but love Catherine before she became queen, was hanged, drawn, and quartered for high treason on the same day.

Catherine was next, and she knew it. A few days before her execution, Henry’s men transported her by barge to the infamous Tower of London. It is said Catherine was in such a panic that assistants had to push her into the barge. Worse, their route passed directly under London Bridge, allowing Catherine a clear view of the heads of both Culpepper and Dereham, proudly displayed on pikes.

The night before her execution, Catherine asked for a chopping block. She reportedly spent hours placing her head up and down, over and over, making sure she had mastered the action. When Catherine walked to the execution platform the next day, many noted her calm composure. But this was not the truth.

She was pale and out of breath, so terrified she could barely move properly and had to ask for help mounting the scaffold. Her head was cut off on February 13, 1542. She was about nineteen years old and had reigned for less than two years. Jane Boleyn, the lady-in-waiting who had helped her affair with Thomas Culpepper, was beheaded immediately after her mistress.

Henry buried them in an unmarked grave in a nearby chapel. He did not attend the execution. Catherine’s death sent shockwaves throughout England, especially for the young Princess Elizabeth. Upon hearing the news, the eight-year-old Elizabeth reportedly swore she would never marry.

After all, she had seen her own mother meet the same fate. There were many reasons why the Virgin Queen never married. Even today, we have no confirmed portrait of Catherine Howard, though experts are almost certain a painting by Hans Holbein the Younger depicts the doomed queen. After Catherine’s execution, people were not eager to immortalize her in the king’s heart.

Her own family removed her portrait from their gallery. Yet some say they see her elsewhere. The story of Catherine’s desperate escape and her attempt to beg for her life while Henry attended Mass is one of the most famous ghost stories in royal history. At Hampton Court Palace, visitors report glimpsing a screaming figure in white running through the haunted gallery — believed to be Catherine’s ghost reliving her futile attempt to save herself.

Folklore claims Catherine’s last words as she was led to the block were, “I die a queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpepper. ” Historians believe this is a myth. In reality, Catherine was regretful, weeping that she deserved to die a thousand times for betraying a king who had always treated her with great kindness. But there is another story behind those words.

Most nobles who were executed tended to apologize, even if innocent of the charges. Their words would inevitably reach the king, and they wanted to protect the surviving families, including their own. By apologizing profusely, Catherine Howard was actually performing a noble act for herself and Culpepper’s relatives. In the end, Catherine Howard’s life was very short, and her history in the years since has been greatly misunderstood.

For centuries, her life and tragic end were seen as a lesson for reckless young women. It is time to tell a new story about her.