Part 9 (1/2)

A laudatory treatise on Anne Boleyn by her former chaplain, William Latymer, was almost certainly presented to Elizabeth I, to whom it was dedicated. Only a draft copy survives (in the Bodleian Library, Oxford), but that the Queen approved of its author's determination to rehabilitate her mother's memory is apparent in her lavis.h.i.+ng many rewards on him.52 It is also possible that Queen Elizabeth commissioned by stealth George Wyatt's defense of her mother, written at the end of the sixteenth century. Wyatt himself claimed that he ”was entreated by some who might command me some who might command me [author's italics] to further this endeavor,” and that he had undertaken the writing of his life of Anne Boleyn at ”the request of him that hath been [author's italics] to further this endeavor,” and that he had undertaken the writing of his life of Anne Boleyn at ”the request of him that hath been by authority by authority set on work in this so important business, both for the singular gifts of G.o.d in him of learning, wisdom, integrity, and virtue, and also the encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend my lord of Canterbury's Grace.” The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was John Whitgift, who was a personal friend of Elizabeth and attended her on her deathbed in 1603. set on work in this so important business, both for the singular gifts of G.o.d in him of learning, wisdom, integrity, and virtue, and also the encouragement I have had of late from the right reverend my lord of Canterbury's Grace.” The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was John Whitgift, who was a personal friend of Elizabeth and attended her on her deathbed in 1603.

Wyatt's memorial was never finished, so there is no dedication that might reveal the names of his patrons. Could it be that the Virgin Queen, nearing the end of her life, felt that the record should be set straight? Unlike Mary I, she had never had the annulment of her mother's marriage reversed, or the sentence on Anne, and she may have felt that by doing so, she would be reviving old scandals that might compromise her own legitimacy and even destabilize her crown. It would be in character, though, for her covertly to let it be known, through Whitgift and others, that she wanted Wyatt-whose extensive researches were evidently known of at court-to write a defense of Anne in answer to Nicholas Sander's calumnies, which had reflected so badly upon Anne Boleyn and herself.

But who was the unnamed man who had been ”by authority set on work in this so important business,” and who encouraged Wyatt to write his memorial? By whose authority had he done so? The fact that neither the authorizer or the authorized are identified suggests that both wished to remain anonymous. The virtues enumerated by Wyatt were of the kind typically attributed to worthy persons at that time, so they do not help us. Yet the fact that Wyatt was asked to write his defense by a man who had been authorized to further this project, and was then encouraged in his labors by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself-who was close to Elizabeth and in a position to know the workings of her conscience and her mind-suggests that she herself was the prime mover.

The fact that the Archbishop had only begun encouraging Wyatt ”of late” implies perhaps that the unknown man who commissioned the work had died. We might conjecture that he was Henry Carey, Lord Hunsdon, the chamberlain of Queen Elizabeth's household, who died in the spring of 1596. No one would have been better placed to ask Wyatt to write his defense, for Anne Boleyn was his aunt, he being the only son of her sister Mary.

Mary Boleyn, who earned a reputation for promiscuity at the courts of France and England,53 had briefly been Henry VIII's mistress before he began pursuing her sister Anne, and it has been suggested that Henry Carey, who was born (according to the inscription on his tomb in Westminster Abbey) in March 1525, was in fact Henry VIII's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. This was rumored in the King's lifetime: in 1535, John Hale, the Vicar of Isleworth in Middles.e.x, reported how a nun of nearby Syon Abbey had pointed out ”young Master Carey” and told him that the boy was Henry's natural son. It should be remembered, however, that Hale, who was to be executed that year for denying the royal supremacy, also put about the unfounded rumor that ”the King's Grace had meddling with the Queen's mother,” had briefly been Henry VIII's mistress before he began pursuing her sister Anne, and it has been suggested that Henry Carey, who was born (according to the inscription on his tomb in Westminster Abbey) in March 1525, was in fact Henry VIII's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. This was rumored in the King's lifetime: in 1535, John Hale, the Vicar of Isleworth in Middles.e.x, reported how a nun of nearby Syon Abbey had pointed out ”young Master Carey” and told him that the boy was Henry's natural son. It should be remembered, however, that Hale, who was to be executed that year for denying the royal supremacy, also put about the unfounded rumor that ”the King's Grace had meddling with the Queen's mother,”54 which Henry himself denied. which Henry himself denied.

It is highly unlikely that Henry VIII was Henry Carey's father. In 1519, when Elizabeth Blount presented the King with a b.a.s.t.a.r.d son, Henry FitzRoy, he had immediately acknowledged him as his own, then brought him up in princely fas.h.i.+on. In 1525, with Katherine of Aragon having failed to bear the King a son, the crisis over the succession was acute. That year, Henry bestowed on FitzRoy two royal dukedoms. This was not just a swipe at Katherine, who was mortified at the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's public enn.o.blement, nor was it merely an affirmation that Henry was a virile man who could get sons on other women. Natural children were important, and a king could use them to extend his power base and affinity, make politically advantageous alliances with the n.o.bility, and enforce the royal authority in remote parts of the kingdom such as the North-where FitzRoy was to be sent as his father's deputy-and the Welsh Marches; and clearly Henry VIII understood this. At this time, having no legitimate heir he was in fact grooming FitzRoy to succeed him on the throne.

Therefore it was in the King's interests, for many reasons, to acknowledge any b.a.s.t.a.r.ds he might have, and consequently his failure to acknowledge Henry Carey is strong evidence that the boy was not his. Furthermore, there is no evidence that Mary Boleyn was the King's mistress at the time of her son's conception, or indeed for several years beforehand; the fact is, we do not know when, or for how long, their affair took place, and its importance has probably been much overstated.

It has been said that Henry would not have acknowledged the boy because his relations.h.i.+p with Mary Boleyn was an impediment to his marriage to her sister, yet it was not until 1527, more than two years after Henry Carey's birth, that Henry resolved upon marrying Anne. It has also been claimed that a series of royal grants made to William Carey in the 1520s55 were to support young Henry Carey, yet William was the King's cousin (through his mother, Eleanor Beaufort) and an important and rising personage in the Privy Chamber who would doubtless have gone far had he not died young; these grants were an acknowledgment of his good service. There is no evidence that he was a complacent husband, or that he obligingly refrained from having s.e.xual relations with an adulterous wife. The King's former mistress, Elizabeth Blount, had been married off after the end of their affair and the birth of their son; Mary Boleyn's marriage, in 1520, were to support young Henry Carey, yet William was the King's cousin (through his mother, Eleanor Beaufort) and an important and rising personage in the Privy Chamber who would doubtless have gone far had he not died young; these grants were an acknowledgment of his good service. There is no evidence that he was a complacent husband, or that he obligingly refrained from having s.e.xual relations with an adulterous wife. The King's former mistress, Elizabeth Blount, had been married off after the end of their affair and the birth of their son; Mary Boleyn's marriage, in 1520,56 probably also took place after Henry had discarded her. probably also took place after Henry had discarded her.

Henry's son or not, Henry Carey was certainly Elizabeth's cousin, she was to create him Lord Hunsdon on her accession in 1558, and he, a plain-spoken soldier, would serve her loyally all his life. He too, surely, with mortality encroaching, would have wanted the record set straight about his aunt. And if the Queen had authorized him to ask George Wyatt to write his memorial as a response to the calumnies of Sander, then we have in it Elizabeth's own views on her mother.

CHAPTER 16.

A Work of G.o.d's Justice.

Anne Boleyn's contemporaries generally accepted the verdict of the ninety-five jurors who had sat on all the trials and commissions, and viewed her fall as ”an object lesson in morality.”1 While her daughter Elizabeth's chances of becoming queen seemed remote, there were virtually no attempts to rehabilitate Anne's reputation, and only a few dared express any doubts about the justness of the proceedings against her. People naturally-and prudently-took their cue from those in power, and one Edward Dudley was no doubt voicing the view of many when, in a letter to Cromwell dated June 3, 1536, he referred to her fall as ”the misfortune that has happened to England.” While her daughter Elizabeth's chances of becoming queen seemed remote, there were virtually no attempts to rehabilitate Anne's reputation, and only a few dared express any doubts about the justness of the proceedings against her. People naturally-and prudently-took their cue from those in power, and one Edward Dudley was no doubt voicing the view of many when, in a letter to Cromwell dated June 3, 1536, he referred to her fall as ”the misfortune that has happened to England.”2 William Thomas, later Clerk of the Council to Edward VI, wrote a laudatory account of Henry VIII ent.i.tled The Pilgrim The Pilgrim in 1546, which almost certainly reflects how the King's deeds were viewed by his subjects, and which was written in the form of a conversation with a disapproving Italian. Thomas says, in response to the charge that Henry ”chopped and changed [wives] at his pleasure,” that ”with some of them, he hath had as ill luck as any poor man.” Anne Boleyn's ”liberal life were too shameful to rehea.r.s.e.” Outwardly she appeared wise and imbued with good qualities and graces, but ”inwardly, she was all another dame that she seemed to be; for in satisfying of her carnal appet.i.te, she fled not so much as the company of her own natural brother, besides the company of some three or four others, who were all so familiarly drawn to her train by her devilish devices.” It seemed, Thomas added dryly, ”she was always well-occupied.” Henry, he wrote, ”was forced to proceed therein by way of open justice, where the matter was manifested unto the whole world.” in 1546, which almost certainly reflects how the King's deeds were viewed by his subjects, and which was written in the form of a conversation with a disapproving Italian. Thomas says, in response to the charge that Henry ”chopped and changed [wives] at his pleasure,” that ”with some of them, he hath had as ill luck as any poor man.” Anne Boleyn's ”liberal life were too shameful to rehea.r.s.e.” Outwardly she appeared wise and imbued with good qualities and graces, but ”inwardly, she was all another dame that she seemed to be; for in satisfying of her carnal appet.i.te, she fled not so much as the company of her own natural brother, besides the company of some three or four others, who were all so familiarly drawn to her train by her devilish devices.” It seemed, Thomas added dryly, ”she was always well-occupied.” Henry, he wrote, ”was forced to proceed therein by way of open justice, where the matter was manifested unto the whole world.”

In 1553, Henry VIII's son and successor, Edward VI, when arguing with his justices over altering the succession in favor of Lady Jane Grey and pa.s.sing over the rights of Mary and Elizabeth, told them: ”It was the fate of Elizabeth to have Anne Boleyn for a mother; this woman was indeed not only cast off by my father because she was more inclined to couple with a number of courtiers rather than reverencing her husband, so mighty a king, but also paid the penalty with her head-a greater proof of her guilt.”3 Writing in the Catholic Mary Tudor's reign, George Cavendish commented on how the memory of the woman who had ”reigned in joy” (something of an overstatement) was held in disdain by ”the world universal,” that her name was slandered and that she was ”called of each man the most vicious queen.” Jane Dormer, d.u.c.h.ess of Feria, the close confidante of Queen Mary, believed-like most Catholics-that Anne had sinned with all the men accused with her in a vain attempt to bear a son.4 Cavendish, who also believed in Anne's guilt and that ”the sharped sword” had been her recompense, did little to dispel this view, having her remorseful shade lament her fall: Cavendish, who also believed in Anne's guilt and that ”the sharped sword” had been her recompense, did little to dispel this view, having her remorseful shade lament her fall: I dread my faults shall thy paper pierce, That thus have loved and been to G.o.d unkind; Vices preferring, setting virtue behind, Hateful to G.o.d, to most men contrary, Spotted with pride, viciousness and cruelty.

Oh sorrowful woman, my body and my soul Shall ever be burdened with slander detestable!

Fame in her register my defame will enrol, And to erase out the same no man shall be able.

My life of late hath been so abominable: Therefore my frailty I may both curse and ban, Wis.h.i.+ng to G.o.d I had never known man ...

My epitaph shall be, The vicious Queen Lyeth here, of late that justly lost her head, Because that she did spot the King's bed.5 By and by, all those who had known Anne Boleyn pa.s.sed away and their memories of her were lost, and with them all sense of the real woman she had been.6 Such was her infamy that her name had all-but been erased from history, and it might have languished in obscurity if not for the fact that her daughter Elizabeth I became Queen of England in 1558. In the eyes of Catholic Europe, Elizabeth was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a heretic and a usurper, and the daughter of an infamous adulteress. Such was her infamy that her name had all-but been erased from history, and it might have languished in obscurity if not for the fact that her daughter Elizabeth I became Queen of England in 1558. In the eyes of Catholic Europe, Elizabeth was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, a heretic and a usurper, and the daughter of an infamous adulteress.7 It was after that date that Anne's history became distorted by biased Protestant and Catholic writers to the point where it became just a series of myths. It was after that date that Anne's history became distorted by biased Protestant and Catholic writers to the point where it became just a series of myths.

Anne Boleyn was especially notorious in Catholic countries, where scandalous tales about her proliferated, as did the details of her supposed promiscuousness and witchcraft. Even today, in Spain and Portugal, an evil, scheming woman can be called an ”Ana-Bolena,” and Anne was until recently portrayed as a demon in carnivals; while in Sicily, up to around 1850, there was a legend that she had been holed up under Mount Etna as punishment for her crimes.8 It was in this climate that the slanders of Nicholas Sander and others-like Cardinal William Allen, who branded Anne ”an infamous courtesan” who had indulged in ”incestuous copulation with Henry VIII, Elizabeth's ”supposed father”-were written, and this legacy that was to blight the European reputation of Elizabeth I. It was in this climate that the slanders of Nicholas Sander and others-like Cardinal William Allen, who branded Anne ”an infamous courtesan” who had indulged in ”incestuous copulation with Henry VIII, Elizabeth's ”supposed father”-were written, and this legacy that was to blight the European reputation of Elizabeth I.

But Anne's fame was not to be forever ”burdened with slander detestable.” As Cavendish's editor, Samuel Singer, put it in the early nineteenth century, ”Protestant writers have not been wanting in zeal to defend the Queen from all the unjust aspersions upon her character, and have almost considered her as a martyr to the cause of the reformed church.” This reversal took place after the accession of Anne's daughter, Elizabeth I, in 1558, when it suddenly became fas.h.i.+onable-and politic-to refer to the Queen's mother in laudatory terms, and Anne was once more hailed as the champion of religious reform.

”True religion in England had its commencement and its end with your mother,” Alexander Aless, the Scots reformist, told Elizabeth as early as 1559; elsewhere in his letter he referred to Anne as ”that most holy Queen, your most pious mother.” He was convinced that she had died ”in consequence of her love for the doctrine of the Gospel when it was in its infancy,” and because she had persuaded the King to befriend the Lutherans at Wittenberg. ”If other arguments of the truth of this were wanting, a single one would be sufficient, namely that before the emba.s.sy had returned, the Queen had been executed.” But since then, G.o.d had declared her innocence ”by the most indisputable miracles, proved by the testimonies of all G.o.dly men.” Of course, it was now permissible to talk up Anne's links to the Lutherans, and Aless was on a mission, seeing it as his sacred duty ”to write the history, or tragedy, of the death of your most holy mother, to afford consolation to the G.o.dly.” No one, as far as he knew, had yet published such a work, which indeed seems to have been the case, although it would not remain so for long.

At Elizabeth's coronation that year, the Gracechurch Street pageant showed that Anne Boleyn's image was no longer to remain hidden or forgotten. It was now permissible to speak her name, and to speak it with honor.

One of the first of Anne's early defenders was an anonymous author who had known her and was writing a defense of her between 1563 and 1570; his work-if it were ever finished-does not survive, and is only known through a reference to it by John Foxe in the 1570 edition of his History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church (popularly known as Foxe's (popularly known as Foxe's Book of Martyrs Book of Martyrs, first published in 1563, and dedicated to Queen Elizabeth). Foxe wrote of Anne: ”Because more is also promised to be declared of her virtuous life (the Lord so permitting) by other who were then about her, I will cease in this matter further to proceed.”

John Foxe himself, who once enjoyed the patronage of Mary Howard, d.u.c.h.ess of Richmond, one of Anne's ladies, was one of the first to refer to Anne as a ”G.o.dly” woman, ”for sundry respects, whatsoever the cause was or quarrel objected against her.” Numbering her among the English martyrs, he wrote that an impenetrable mystery surrounded her fall, but because he expected that to be examined in the work to which he had referred, he did not elaborate himself upon it.9 First, her last words declared no less her faith in Christ than did her modesty utter forth the goodness of the cause, whatsoever it was. Besides that, this also may seem to give a great clearing unto her, that the King, [being] married in his whites [wedding clothes] unto another [so soon after her death] represented a great clearing of her. Certain this was, that for the singular gifts of her mind, so well instructed and given toward G.o.d, joined with like gentleness and pity towards men, there hath not been many such queens before her borne the crown of England. Princ.i.p.ally, this commendation she left behind her, that during her life the religion of Christ had a right prosperous course. What a zealous defender she was of Christ's Gospel all the world doth know, and her acts do and will declare to the world's end. I marvel why Parliament, after the illegitimation of the marriage [was] enacted, should further proceed and charge her with such carnal desires as to misuse herself with her own natural brother, Lord Rochford, and others, being so contrary to all nature that no natural man will believe it.

Nor did the Elizabethans believe it. To them, Anne was a virtual saint. Although she died in the orthodox Catholic faith, she had given impetus and encouragement to the cause of reform, and for this, succeeding generations brought up in the Anglican tradition were prepared to forgive her less endearing deeds. The Protestant scholar John Aylmer, famous as the tutor of Lady Jane Grey, was voicing the new received wisdom when he posed the question, ”Was not Queen Anne, the mother of the blessed woman, the chief, first and only cause of banis.h.i.+ng the Beast of Rome with all his beggarly baggage?”

”She was a comforter and aider of all the professors of Christ's Gospels,” George Wyatt wrote. Her charities, benefactions, good works, alms, and ”the heavenly flame burning in her” became the chief things that were remembered of her, and he concluded that ”this princely lady was elect of G.o.d.” It is not surprising, therefore, that Elizabethan chroniclers such as John Stow tended to omit the unpleasant details of Anne's fall. Instead, she and Henry VIII were portrayed as the righteous victims of Fortune or of unscrupulous, malicious schemers. These views would prevail in England right through the seventeenth century and into the eighteenth, a period during which Elizabeth I's accession day was celebrated as a national holiday.

William Shakespeare makes no mention of Anne's fall in his play All is True All is True, or Henry VIII Henry VIII (now thought to have been a collaboration with John Fletcher), which was written around 1613, in the reign of James I, Elizabeth's successor, and focuses on Henry's love for ”Anne Bullen,” her ”gentle mind and heavenly blessings,” her coronation and the triumphant birth of the future Queen Elizabeth. However, when Francis Bacon did touch on the controversial aspects of Anne's life in (now thought to have been a collaboration with John Fletcher), which was written around 1613, in the reign of James I, Elizabeth's successor, and focuses on Henry's love for ”Anne Bullen,” her ”gentle mind and heavenly blessings,” her coronation and the triumphant birth of the future Queen Elizabeth. However, when Francis Bacon did touch on the controversial aspects of Anne's life in The Tragedy of Anne Boleyn The Tragedy of Anne Boleyn, a play that dates probably from the late 1580s, he thought it best to write in cipher. The first part of Bacon's play is very like Shakespeare's, but he goes boldly beyond the scope of Henry VIII Henry VIII, portraying Henry's disappointment in Elizabeth's s.e.x, his fickle and changeable nature and how it prompted the false charges against Anne, the travesty of her trial, in which scene she is seen conducting herself n.o.bly, and her cruel death.

Bacon wrote several other works in code, but there can be no doubt that this play-which was not deciphered until 1901-was written in that manner because of its sensitive content, which might have offended Elizabeth I, and that it was never actually performed. Clearly, Bacon understood that the matters it dealt with were not to be spoken of. He wrote that such works would ”perchance remain in hiding until a future people furnish wits keener than those of our own times to open this heavily barred entranceway and enter the house of treasure. Yet are we in hourly terror lest the Queen, our enemy at present, although likewise our mother, be cognizant of our invention.” All the same, Bacon's depiction of Anne is sympathetic and in keeping with the Elizabethan tradition. ”Every act and scene is a tender sacrifice,” he wrote, ”and an incense to her sweet memory.”

It was not until 1720 that modern historical research into the subject of Henry VIII's wives began. That was when the antiquarian John Strype embarked on the vast task of collecting, collating, and preserving many important contemporary doc.u.ments. This inst.i.tuted a new tradition in historical study, which prompted independent a.n.a.lysis that was free-to a decreasing degree-of religious bias. From that time forward, public sympathy for Anne Boleyn began to burgeon, and one can detect in the works of eighteenth-century historians a certain antagonism toward Henry VIII, who was beginning to be regarded as an authoritarian bigot and a cruel lecher.

In the later eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the developing romantic movement in literature and the arts saw Anne Boleyn elevated to the status of tragic, wronged heroine, as she appears in Gaetano Donizetti's historically wildly inaccurate opera Anna Bolena Anna Bolena (1830), in which she is portrayed as the tragic victim of treasonable intrigues at court and finally goes mad in the Tower. Jane Austen vilified Henry as a vile fornicator and s.a.d.i.s.t, and bitterly bewailed the fate of his unfortunate wives. Here again, a new, emotive, and subjective tradition emerged, and it was in such a climate that Agnes Strickland wrote her celebrated (1830), in which she is portrayed as the tragic victim of treasonable intrigues at court and finally goes mad in the Tower. Jane Austen vilified Henry as a vile fornicator and s.a.d.i.s.t, and bitterly bewailed the fate of his unfortunate wives. Here again, a new, emotive, and subjective tradition emerged, and it was in such a climate that Agnes Strickland wrote her celebrated Lives of the Queens of England Lives of the Queens of England, a landmark work in itself and the product of much original research, but heavily influenced by Victorian moral and social codes. She too wrote of Anne Boleyn in the romantic tradition, and clearly viewed Henry VIII as unspeakably wicked. Nevertheless, her work, much enjoyed by Queen Victoria (to whom it was dedicated), heralded a revival of interest in the Tudor queens.

From about 1850 on, we move into the great period of historical research, when a large number of doc.u.ments were collated and published, many under the auspices of the Master of the Rolls. The monumental Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII Letters and Papers of the Reign of Henry VIII was compiled, as were the foreign diplomatic calendars and the Tudor state papers, sources that are essential to our understanding of the period. This research prompted the publication of many history books with a fresh and a.n.a.lytical approach. The works of James Anthony Froude and Martin A. S. Hume achieved a more rational a.s.sessment of the history of Henry VIII's wives, while Paul Friedmann's was compiled, as were the foreign diplomatic calendars and the Tudor state papers, sources that are essential to our understanding of the period. This research prompted the publication of many history books with a fresh and a.n.a.lytical approach. The works of James Anthony Froude and Martin A. S. Hume achieved a more rational a.s.sessment of the history of Henry VIII's wives, while Paul Friedmann's Anne Boleyn: A Chapter of English History Anne Boleyn: A Chapter of English History (1884) debunked many of the romantic legends about its subject and portrayed her as a scheming adventuress. (1884) debunked many of the romantic legends about its subject and portrayed her as a scheming adventuress.

Froude felt that the unanimous verdict given by the peers and the grand juries proved that Anne must have committed at least some of the offenses with which she was charged. Friedmann was of the opinion that Cromwell was speaking the truth when he referred to Anne's coaccused confessing to things ”so abominable that a great part of them were never given in evidence, but clearly kept secret,”10 and was ”by no means convinced that Anne did not commit offenses quite as grave as those of which she was accused.” He thought it possible that she was guilty ”of crimes which it did not suit the convenience of the government to divulge.” He added that this was hinted at during her trial, and was ”by no means convinced that Anne did not commit offenses quite as grave as those of which she was accused.” He thought it possible that she was guilty ”of crimes which it did not suit the convenience of the government to divulge.” He added that this was hinted at during her trial,11 ”and although proof was not adduced, they were likely enough to have been true.” It is an interesting theory, and would explain why the evidence against Anne was destroyed, as Friedmann believed, and why the charges in the indictment seem so obviously contrived. It would also explain the odd remark Anne made when she was told by Kingston that she would not be held in a dungeon but in the Queen's lodgings-”It is too good for me”-and her final confession, in which she declared she had never offended against the King with her body. Had she offended against him in some other way? ”and although proof was not adduced, they were likely enough to have been true.” It is an interesting theory, and would explain why the evidence against Anne was destroyed, as Friedmann believed, and why the charges in the indictment seem so obviously contrived. It would also explain the odd remark Anne made when she was told by Kingston that she would not be held in a dungeon but in the Queen's lodgings-”It is too good for me”-and her final confession, in which she declared she had never offended against the King with her body. Had she offended against him in some other way?

Yet what abominable offense could Anne have committed that had at all costs to be kept secret? Could it have been something that touched not only her honor but the King's too? Even if it had, Cromwell, that master of spin, could surely have turned it to Henry's advantage. If it was not a s.e.xual offense, as Anne's last confession would appear to make clear, what other crime could her coaccused have disclosed? There is no evidence of any, and given that the charges against Anne were sensitive enough in their nature, and that Cromwell's reference to secret abominations was probably meant to convey nothing more than unmentionable s.e.xual depravity, we can only conclude that Friedmann's theory does not bear close scrutiny.