Showing posts with label Elizabeth I. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elizabeth I. Show all posts

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Book Review: His Last Letter by Jeane Westin

They were playmates as children, impetuous lovers as adults-and for thirty years were the center of each others' lives. Astute to the dangers of choosing any one man, the Virgin Queen could never give her "Sweet Robin" what he wanted most-marriage- yet she insisted he stay close by her side. Possessive and jealous, their love survived quarrels, his two disastrous marriages to other women, her constant flirtations, and political machinations with foreign princes. His Last Letter tells the story of this great love... and especially of the last three years Elizabeth and Dudley spent together, the most dangerous of her rule, when their passion was tempered by a bittersweet recognition of all that they shared-and all that would remain unfulfilled. 

I was excited to read "His Last Letter" -- I've loved the Elizabeth and Dudley forbidden love since Philippa Gregory's "The Virgin's Lover", and this book was dedicated entirely to them. I truly wanted to love it, but HLL fell a bit flat for me in some areas.

Firstly, while this was understandably historical romance, it was romanticized to the point of being a little cliche... okay,a LOT cliche. I don't doubt Robert Dudley was in love with Elizabeth, but I feel like Westin should have addressed the fact that there was some ambition, on his part, in the mix. Next, and this is something unforgivable to me in all novels, it would have to be the awkward placement of their sex scenes. SPOILER AHEAD -- I feel as if there was no build-up to their sex scene in 1576, and that more sexual tension could have been weaved, at least in their earlier years. Which leads to my final complaint -- the story is set between 1585-1588, the last years Elizabeth and Dudley spend together before his death. This was arguably 'sweeter' as they are together still in their old age, thick and thin, but her 'flashback' chapters, which were almost half the book, could have focused more on when they were young, passionate and in love -- most of the book shows them as fond but mellow with age, and I find that a bit unfair. They were once so recklessly in love and that would have been entertaining to read about.

Despite the notes in the previous paragraph, I enjoyed many parts of "HLL" as well. I may not have enjoyed how she built up their love, but the way she concluded it was poignant and beautiful, and her version of his real last letter brought me to tears. I don't want to spoil it, but their last ride together in 1588 was a beautiful addition. My favorite part of the book was her in depth chapter guide/timeline so that you don't get confused with the constantly changing dates, and the phenomenal author's note and reader's guide! The reader's guide was like a guide to all of Tudor England and it was deliciously informative. So thankful to her for that interview.

All in all, "His Last Letter" is recommended, although not particularly strongly. It's romantic, inclusive, heart-warming and an excellent read for someone who can't get enough of Tudor England and Elizabeth I's iron will and sass.

Monday, May 27, 2013

Book Review: The Virgin's Lover

As a new queen, Elizabeth faces two great dangers: the French invasion of Scotland, which threatens to put Mary Queen of Scots on her throne, and her passion for the convicted traitor Robert Dudley. But Dudley is already married, and his devoted wife Amy will never give him up, least of all to an upstart Protestant Princess. She refuses to set her beloved husband free to marry the queen; but she cannot prevent him from becoming the favorite and the focus of the feverishly plotting, pleasure seeking court. Others too oppose the marriage, but for very different reasons. William Cecil, the queen's wisest counselor, knows she must marry for policy; her uncle hates Dudley and swears he will be murder him first. Behind the triangle of lovers, the factions take up their places: the Protestants, the priests, the assassins, the diplomats and the moneymakers. The very coin of England is shaved and clipped to nothing as Elizabeth uncertainly leads her bankrupt country into a war that no-one thinks can be won. Then someone acts in secret, and for Elizabeth, Dudley and the emerging kingdom, nothing will be as planned. Blending historical fact with contemporary rumor, Philippa Gregory has created a dark and tense novel of Tudor times, which casts Elizabeth I in a light no one has suggested before. Passionate, fearful, emotionally needy, this is a queen who will stop at nothing.

This was the first novel by Philippa Gregory that I ever read, and I found it at the library whilst searching for The Other Boleyn Girl. At the start of my reading, I knew little of Elizabeth I's reign, and by the end of the novel I had not taken much away. The Virgin's Lover describes the complicated story of Elizabeth's relationship with Robert Dudley, her Master of Horse from a family line of traitors to the crown -- and little else save for her brief war with the French involving the Scots and the difficulties of ruling a bankrupt and religiously-torn country. Elizabeth is portrayed as anything but the strong, feminist and brilliant Virgin Queen she is known as today, and is instead, at twenty-five, immature, overly-flirtatious to the point of being 'slutty', and more reliant on the love and support of Robert Dudley than the guidance of counselors.

Do I necessarily disagree with this shockingly weak portrayal of history's favorite queen? No. Elizabeth was not always the iron queen with the heart of stone that we remember her to be; she was once a young woman, sincerely in love, and quite torn between heart and mind. The only thing troubling about this unique portrayal is Gregory's characteristically disdainful tone toward Elizabeth, carried over from its prequel "The Queen's Fool". The author has a distinct bias against Elizabeth and her mother, but if you are no fan of historical accuracy and enjoy the demonization of Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth I, then this book is fully recommended. As I personally adore the mother-daughter duo after tiresome and passionate research of them, I found it quite irksome.

As for the book itself, while "The Virgin Queen" was juicy, sexy, scandalous and romantic, it was lacking in flow with predictable and cliche characters -- Amy, the faithful wronged wife; Robert, the selfish and UNfaithful husband; Elizabeth, the man-stealing whore -- and without distinctive plot. From the start, the story is building up to the moment Elizabeth and Robert consummate their relationship, and the sexual tension is gripping and enjoyable; but after, the story falls flat, with their love 'progressing' like an awkward roller coaster and one historical event flowing directionlessly into another, up until SPOILER Amy Dudley's death. Gregory fails to create a sympathetic ending for Dudley's wronged wife, and the story ends suddenly with very dry, predictable drama and little closure -- although this was most likely intentional. 

Overall, "The Virgin's Lover" is recommended for historical romance enthusiasts considering starting up on the Tudor/Elizabethan era, but NOT for history buffs. 


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Anne Boleyn: Impact and Legacy

A COUNTDOWN TO HER EXECUTION: PART 4/4 ARTICLES
On this 19 May, 2013, the 477th anniversary of Anne Boleyn's execution, a reflection of the impact she had on her world and her legacy, in ours.
Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn being crowned on Showtime's The Tudors.
It seems there has always been a mixed reaction to Anne Boleyn – to her life, to her death, and, today, to her legacy. Should we remember and revile her, a six-fingered whore and witch, a grasping, cunning man-stealer? Or should we just accept that the truth of it is not so simple? The only simple statement that one could extract from so bold, colorful and powerful a life is that Anne, in her own right, had and has tremendous impact on her world and ours. She, a woman in the 16th century, was a guiding force in religious tolerance and the Reformation, a key player in one of the most enthralling political and diplomatic wars of history, a leader of the Renaissance, the single character who changed Henry VIII’s 55 year life most, a strong influence to among the most highly-regarded English monarchs in history, and ultimately, a feminist icon who embodies strong women of all centuries.
                Anne Boleyn was not a Protestant – but neither was she a corrupt manipulator of Scripture, happy to twist words about when the Roman Catholic Church failed to suit her needs. Many of the reformist pieces Anne owned being in French, her interest in church reform was probably sparked during her early years in France through her close friend, Protestant Princess Renee. Anne would be the one to supply Henry with a book key to his future cause – establishing a national church independent from Rome – this book was the martyr Tyndale’s The Obedience of a Christian Man, which stated all princes, being divinely chosen by God, should be freed from papal tyranny. Illuminating the Book, a list of all the books owned by the wives of Henry VIII, shows Anne owned at least a whole library of books of theology like this. As queen, she would be at Henry’s side through every step of the summer 1535 progress which was so key to gaining favor from the highly reformist progress around the Severn. On a more personal note, Anne owned various religious pieces describing the Lutheran idea of salvation through faith alone, but, again, she was not quite a Protestant at all. Imprisoned in the Tower of London she begged for the Sacrament, and her last earthly morning was spent attending Mass; yet, that she was a Catholic woman, debating and reading about the Reformation, funding poor Protestant scholars, encouraging the English Bible with such a fire, and urging the freedom of persecuted heretics, is a testament to her subtle devotion to religious tolerance.
Whatever her religious views, with the gift of foresight we can see that, intemperate and at times, arrogant, Anne was no saint. Yet these personal impurities were unknown to the Protestant community who adored her, would privately defend her innocence and revere her as exactly that: a saint. We can never know for certain who she was, privately, and yet the actions of hers that have not evaded record depict a brave, generous, thoughtful and intelligent lady, passionate about education, theology and, in every way, reform. Anne had the courage to defend said persecuted heretics, who include a merchant of Antwerp bullied for owning an English Bible; she had the courage to defy the king and his puppet-minister, Cromwell, so that money from dissolved Catholic monasteries could be offered to charity and improvements to the education system, above personal gain. The chronicles of Bishop Latymer, a future Protestant martyr under Anne’s stepdaughter Mary I, list the amount of money she donated as a staggering fortune of 14000 pounds within three years, not even including private sums allotted to struggling gentry or the scholarships she offered poor but hard-working theologians so they could attend prestigious universities. Anne Boleyn was the first queen of England to spread and encourage the English Bible; there was a copy, open and available to everyone, in her rooms, as well as several translations dedicated to her name. There was deeper meaning to this, yet another tie to her famous passion for education. Herself a trilingual since her education abroad at two of the greatest courts in Europe, understanding Latin bibles was no problem for Anne, but, English bibles being forbidden, the commons who could not understand Latin had to believe everything the clergy told them. They were unable to consider the word of God with their own opinions just because they had not been wealthy enough to get educations. Opinions were indeed important to the queen, and she used hers, paired with her political influence over Henry to create a legacy as one of history’s most prominent and generous spiritual benefactresses.
Natalie Dormer, The Tudors
By 1527, Henry VIII was determined to marry Anne Boleyn. The attraction must have been more than physical because Henry understood the magnitude of her intelligence and even trusted in it as he had and would never, again. Henry constantly wrote her letters updating her with every move regarding their Great Matter – he treated her as a partner and allowed her to receive foreign ambassadors even before they were married; one of them commented about the necessity of cultivating her graces if they sought the king’s. Catherine of Aragon would never have dared tell her husband what to do or who to favor; Jane Seymour would be reprimanded harshly for saying so much as two words in defense of northern rebels; poor Katherine Howard would be but an innocent, and perhaps unwilling, accomplice in her creation as queen; and Catherine Parr would be forced to kowtow to her husband for safety after a single religious debate with her tyrannical husband. It seems Anne Boleyn was the only woman in Henry’s life ever to be regarded as an equal, by him. Even when he disrespected her, Anne could not be silenced if she had an opinion to share; perhaps this was a reason why they were constantly at odds.
A bit less concretely, Anne was, in many ways, key to the creation of Henry as a more independent king – she used his trust and her influence over him to spearhead a faction against Wolsey, the corrupt adviser who had essentially ruled Henry for more than 20 years. In many ways she replaced Wolsey and upon his ruin became Henry’s most intimate adviser. Her family was elevated to one of the highest in the land, her father receiving two wealthy Anglo-English earldoms, her brother was made Lord Rochford, and in her own right she was made one of, and the only female, of five peers of the land. By right and not marriage she was already the most influential woman perhaps in England; Henry not only loved her but trusted in her abilities as a leader; this was unprecedented. Perhaps even more so was the appointment of the most powerful religious authority (second only to the king) almost entirely through the favor of a woman – Anne Boleyn. Thomas Cranmer, who enjoyed patronage from Anne and the Boleyns through the years of her courtship with Henry and her reign – would hail the queen as a woman he respected above all others. Many of the bishops would respect her as well, as she would have a significant hand in their appointment; she was one of few queens in English history with such a strong role in the assignation of clergy. Even many of the king’s councilors, Cromwell among these, were her picks, and the king’s inner-circle of most trusted friends, who included her brother and Henry Norris, were her loyal servants. Contrary to the stereotype that upon becoming queen, Henry instantly came to show his wife disfavor, Anne was the first queen-consort to have some statutory claim to the throne through Parliament’s Act of Succession.
“She (Anne) knew perfectly how to sing and dance…to play the lute and other instruments.” Anne was a talented musician, and some historians argue that it was this trait of hers in particular that earned her royal favor. A poet, too, she seemed to excel in nearly everything artistic, offering patronage to the most uniquely talented artists in the land and decorating her rooms with French styled art. Some of these artists include Holbein, a man regarded as a genius. Acton Court, one of the grandest castles Henry and Anne stayed at during their summer progress in 1535, was decorated with French wall paintings like art the queen herself would commission, and the fashions were styled entirely to her liking in the French manner. As a young debutante in England, teenaged Anne Boleyn had probably been expected to wear the traditional dress of an Englishwoman – the gable hood, the overly-ostentatious gowns – but very typically of her, she created her own ‘fashion’ rules and set in motion new national trends. In many ways Anne directly affected the Renaissance with all the taste and precision of a Medici or d’Este.
Long after her death, the memory of Anne Boleyn and the impact of her life would affect not only all of Henry VIII’s next four wives, but the last three Tudor monarchs as well. Tudor historian David Starkey was right in going as far as saying that his ten-year romance with Anne Boleyn was the last time the king would ever fall in love truly and properly; it was sharing in opinions, sharing in faith, sharing in everything as equals the way very few kings and queens after them would. Jane Seymour was reminded time to time what would happen if she incurred her husband’s wrath, cruelly told by him to ‘remember what happened to [her] predecessor’ when she ‘meddled in [his] affairs’; Anne of Cleves cried for relief upon learning she could leave her marriage with her life, indefinitely expecting something far worse given the fate of Wife number 2; if Katherine Howard, poor young girl, had been old enough to understand her cousin’s life, perhaps she could have avoided her fate; and Catherine Parr, an intelligent Protestant in many ways similar to Boleyn, would work hard to help guide Elizabeth in the faith of her mother. King Henry hated Anne Boleyn in May 1536 when he sent her to her death, but no matter how hard he worked to lie to his conscience, somewhere in his corrupt soul, he knew she was innocence, and there is evidence that, whether he regretted his decision or not, he may have missed her. Henry would recall that Anne Boleyn was unlike Anne of Cleves, a woman unattractive and unexciting in every sense, with something like regret, in a very brusque letter to his six-year-old daughter Elizabeth. All his life he would keep some of Anne’s books and tablets of their entwined names.
 However briefly Anne was in her daughter’s life, she was one of Queen Elizabeth I’s strongest influences – perhaps she was even regarded as a role model. A week before her arrest, sensing trouble in the air, Boleyn made a heartfelt request to her chaplain, a kind and paternal Protestant man, to guide the spirituality of her daughter; decades later, upon miraculously becoming queen of England, Elizabeth would practically give Parker supreme religious authority, begging him to be her Archbishop of Canterbury. Elizabeth’s fate and faith were in that sense, beyond the grave, largely shaped by her mother. Dark-eyed, tall, slender; fiercely witty, charming and flirtatious; a talented musician and linguist, Elizabeth was in many ways like the redheaded reincarnation of her mother, but in this second lifetime, at least in the department of men and their fickleness and treachery, she had learned a lesson and never married. It is a fascinating debate indeed – why did a woman so eligible and so sensual never wed? There are many ideas – that she was a lesbian, that she lacked female sex organs, that she was afraid of childbirth – but most historians are in agreement: aside from wanting to protect England from a foreign king and creating civil unrest through marrying an Englishman, on a personal note, she feared men. And she had good reason: her father executed a teenage girl who she had enjoyed a friendly relationship with, and the mother whose name she revered. Unto her death Elizabeth kept a ring which had enclosed miniatures of herself and her mother, together, as circumstances had prevented them from being, in life.
“…But perhaps I have not always shown to him such a perfect humility and reverence as his graciousness and courtesy deserved, and the honor he hath done me required,” Anne Boleyn said in her unforgettable speech at her May 1536 trial. In the sixteenth century, a wife ought to submit to her husband, in body, in word, in everything, even if they were but shepherd boy and goose girl; Henry was not just Anne’s husband, he was her sovereign but still she did not submit. She demanded to be treated as an equal, and in so holds true to the greatest concept of modern feminism. Brave, independent, formidable and defensive of the things she loved, with a sense of humor, charity and compassion, a wide range of talents, and, to top it off, intelligence, charisma, and iron will, perhaps it would not be a stretch to say her personality itself is her greatest legacy of all. Here we have a woman who wasn’t born for greatness, but shaped her own destiny and made herself a legend.
Natalie Dormer

Friday, March 15, 2013

Creative Nonfiction: Anne Boleyn's letter to Elizabeth I

Thank you to BeingBess.blogspot.com!
For an application I decided to write a piece of creative nonfiction in the form of a letter written by Anne Boleyn to her daughter on the night before her execution. The insight and advice from doomed mother to daughter on the brink of greatness is meant to foreshadow the woman Elizabeth will become and obstacles she will face, and the challenges that in her short but powerful life Anne managed to overcome. 
18 May, 1536, Tower of London
From Queen Anne Boleyn to her daughter, the Right Honorable Princess Elizabeth Tudor of Wales,
                This shall be the last letter I ever write, and I would not see it written to anyone but you, my only daughter. From my window I watch the dusk ebb away, and the sky flare up like a blushing rose; twilight of this new day, my last day, has come.
                They will make sure that you never know me, my Elizabeth, and if they do me, they will see that you know me as the lewd, traitorous whore your father created and destroyed. Still I urge you to love him because though the fiery passion with which he once loved me soured he always made an effort to love you despite your mother.
                Very soon I will go forward and die disgraced, humiliated, but for now I urge you to live as I have. When I was just a child in the court of Margaret of Austria, and then in that French court of Marguerite of Navarre, I had a taste of what true living, exciting living, was, and in time I hope that you will heed my advice and continue to change this world where I could not.
I have charged my own chaplain Matthew Parker with your spiritual care and he has assured me that he will  bring you up according to the faith I myself would have chosen for you. This is an age of reform in every way imaginable, and perhaps someday you will live in an England where the religious books I read might be celebrated as the paragons of truth that I know them to be.. In matters of church you may not always be your own leader; your father was ever-generous with me, and I am thankful for it, that he allowed me to preside over his clergy, appoint his men, endorse the English Bible, and even spare heretics who might have suffered deaths more shameful than mine shall certainly be.
Whatever your faith I hope that you will sympathize with the persecuted and be a friend to those who show you kindness; I fear that, because of who your mother is, there will be few who do. Dawn approaches; I must finish. Sweet girl, I fear that you may never be queen; but regardless you must be  the most learned princess that you can. Let your sex not hamper your mind; develop opinions, share opinions. This world is vain, this world is lascivious; love God but follow that word of Ecclesiastes and live every day knowing the next one might be taken from you without preamble
Lastly I warn you, from a woman condemned to the beautiful woman someday you shall be, of the treachery of men. Men will rule you, Elizabeth, and they will lead you by your desire and by their promises; but know that you must lead men by their passion and with your half-promises. That is the only way. I have no shame in that I was not the icy mother to you that a queen ought to be with her litter. I have loved you as your father loves you, but they will never let you know that.
Your loving mother,


Book Review: The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir


Even at age two, Elizabeth is keenly aware that people in the court of her father, King Henry VIII, have stopped referring to her as “Lady Princess” and now call her “the Lady Elizabeth.” Before she is three, she learns of the tragic fate that has befallen her mother, the enigmatic and seductive Anne Boleyn, and that she herself has been declared illegitimate, an injustice that will haunt her.

What comes next is a succession of stepmothers, bringing with them glimpses of love, fleeting security, tempestuous conflict, and tragedy. The death of her father puts the teenage Elizabeth in greater peril, leaving her at the mercy of ambitious and unscrupulous men. Like her mother two decades earlier she is imprisoned in the Tower of London–and fears she will also meet her mother’s grisly end. Power-driven politics, private scandal and public gossip, a disputed succession, and the grievous example of her sister, “Bloody” Queen Mary, all cement Elizabeth’s resolve in matters of statecraft and love, and set the stage for her transformation into the iconic Virgin Queen.


The only reading I've ever done on Elizabeth's childhood, before this, was a short YA fictional diary of hers by Kathryn Lasky, which I did not find particularly enjoyable. Other bits I had picked up about her early years were simply from endings and afterwords from books of Anne Boleyn. Elizabeth has always been a curious figure to me, and so it was with great pleasure that I checked out historian Alison Weir's second Tudor novel from my library, and what a delightful reading experience "The Lady Elizabeth" was. Full of every triumph and tribulation from 1536, the year her mother is executed, to 1558, the year she ascends the throne, it makes for a great 'prelude' to novels of her reign as queen.

I was absorbed almost instantly; given how most of the Elizabethan novels I have read are of Anne Boleyn, I have hardly had the chance to experience fictional Tudor England after 1536 -- turns out there was so much left. Weir brings you up close and personal to the troubled childhood of history's most tragic princess; it starts out cute and endearing, with Elizabeth as a toddler, but is able to transition seamlessly into Elizabeth as a teenager, wound up in an intriguing hot mess. Rich with emotion, royal court thrills, and enhanced with sumptuous bites of erotic, archetypal romance, "The Lady Elizabeth" is the oerfect blend of fact and fiction that I've ever read; the author reminds you that whilst she's a talented novelist and story-teller, her field is history, using letters and records to create and dramatize the majority of dialogues. If only textbooks were written this way, students everywhere would ace their history classes. Definitely a novel worth reading, and one I would recommend to anyone. It's a reading experience as educational as an Eric Ives biography, and yet as fun, flavorful, and exciting as a Philippa Gregory novel.

Statistics
Pages: 473
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Year Published: 2008
Kylie's Rating: ♛♛♛♛♛/♛♛♛♛♛ (5/5 Stars)

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Queen Anne and Queen Elizabeth I: Royal women, powerful women

Anne Boleyn, alongside Cleopatra, Marie Antoinette, and Marilyn Monroe, remains one of history’s most accomplished, fascinating, and, ultimately, controversial women. Not only immortalized in romantic legend, she lives on through the forces of the remarkable envy and hate of her contemporaries, miraculously transcended five centuries to this present day. There is much said of her that Boleyn should probably turn over in her cold grave to hear – that she was a whore guilty of adultery, a witch with six fingers, a husband-stealing Jezebel, and a wicked stepmother straight out of one of Grimm’s fairytales – but the most painful of these by afar for her would be the common misconception that she had neither relationship with nor effect on her only daughter, Elizabeth I. Indeed, Anne Boleyn was executed and forgotten before the bastardized princess turned three, and Elizabeth was raised primarily by a beloved governess and final stepmother, but events to transpire later on in her glorious and tumultuous life would prove that a bond from beyond the grave and the precaution of a mother in the face of death were the driving forces behind her greatness.

4 PM, September 7th, 1533, and the nine month wait was over. Queen Anne, the woman Henry VIII fought seven years to win and marry, gave birth fairly easily to Princess Elizabeth of Wales. While the majority of England was somewhat soothed by their queen’s ability to deliver a healthy child to term, the first and last royal birth of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII was also met with embarrassment, disappointment, anxiety, and alas, bloodshed. The predictions of astrologers and Anne’s own confidence had the king convinced absolutely that this would be the male heir who would prevent civil war after his death, who he had waited nearly twenty-two years for. Unlike any other queen-consort in history, she had been crowned with St Edward’s crown, which previously only king regnants had been honored with; this was performed out of the belief that, five months pregnant, she bore England’s next king regnant in her belly. Along with formal announcements of a prince’s birth prepared days earlier, this built up so much hype that Elizabeth’s gender indefinitely heeded to miserable disappointment, and the congratulations for a newborn prince by Henry’s foreign rivals, to intense embarrassment. Having dramatically separated from and defied the Roman Catholic Church, Henry VIII and his reformist clergy were excommunicated, and his former wife Catherine of Aragon had to explicitly tell her nephew the Holy Roman Emperor not to invade England on behalf of herself and her disinherited daughter. It was a dark and anxiety-crazed time for Parliament and the newly-wed couple, but had Elizabeth been male, victory-induced intoxication would leave fear of a Holy War in the dust. The kingdom’s most well-respected theologians might have accepted Anne if she secured the Tudor line with a boy, but the 1534 Act of Succession sent dozens of them and other men who refused to cleave to a princess, to the Tower and their deaths.

Anne indefinitely experienced embarrassment, disappointment, and anxiety having given birth to Elizabeth, crushed beneath failed expectations of her, and while pride could be credited with preventing her, as well as Henry, from reacting negatively, nothing save the love of a first-time mother could be credited with her open and shameless doting on the girl. ‘Saintly’ Catherine of Aragon will always be remembered as one of history’s greatest mothers, but not even she had dared to breastfeed her beloved daughter Mary. The first queen-consort to feed her own child, Anne scandalized her contemporaries, mystified as to how their majestic mistress could be so enamored of a baby and especially a girl one. Against the criticism of courtiers and ambassadors, she fawned too publicly over the princess; however, granted her less-than-royal birth, she could not have entirely understood what was dignified and what was not for a queen to do, as her precedent had. As the world around her became dark and volatile with miscarriages and strife with her husband, Anne’s visits with her daughter became more frequent, and regularly ordering the princess new finery and reinforcing decorum in her household, the queen found solace in being a more active mother. While Elizabeth’s gender might have been alone appreciated by her mother Anne, it would be the key to the celebrated religious virtue which would define her reign.

Something extraordinary and too-often overlooked occurred in around 1528. Nearly at the height of her influence with King Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn was exposed owning a heretical tract –Protestant William Tyndale’s The Obedience of a Christian Man was found among her possessions. Easily she could have been prosecuted, but even in the face of danger she sought Henry, owned up to her possession of the tract, and then showed him previously marked passages from it. Previously marked, for she had been a long time planning to share them with him. The passages encouraged Christian kings to take charge of religious houses of their kingdoms from the Pope, and because of Anne, the first ever to present and encourage Protestant ideals to a king of England, an alternative path for them, should Rome continue to stall Henry’s divorce case, opened up. Until her fall from grace and death in 1536, Anne implored sympathy for Protestant heretics, according to her contemporaries, at several instances. While Anne Boleyn never came out as anything more than an Anglican reformist, her daughter transformed the United Kingdom into a Protestant empire, when easily she could have fallen in the wretched footsteps of her tragic half-sister, ‘Bloody Mary’ if her chaplain had not been a good Protestant carefully-chosen by her mother. Her wise choice for the keeper of her daughter’s spirituality upon Anne’s death was Matthew Parker, who would eventually be her daughter’s choice for Archbishop of Canterbury, or principal religious leader of the Church of England. Most amazing of all, just as Anne both encouraged the English Bible and sought charity for Catholic monks who lost their homes to the Reformation, Elizabeth was the first monarch to practice religious tolerance, boldly claiming, “I have no desire to make windows into men’s souls.” Their shared religious ideals making them stand out as leaders despite their sexes, their ‘like-mother-like-daughter’ allure only added to their naturally powerful charismas.

While Anne reigned as but a queen-consort, her only responsibility and expectation to make a boy, at the zenith of her royal influence she excelled as a leader in the same way that, as queen-regnant, Elizabeth would preside over even the most powerful men in the land. Sometime before 1533 while Henry VIII was still forced to hold the title ‘Defender of the Catholic Faith’ by the Pope, he entrusted Anne to spearhead secret meetings in which the Reformation was discussed with learned clergy. This was impressive not only because she was but an inferior woman, but also due to what was hanging on the meetings – Henry’s liberation from his first marriage, and effectually, their future together and England’s. Next, despite the only church positions he ever held being modest, all it took was the recommendation of Anne Boleyn for Thomas Cranmer to be enthroned Archbishop of Canterbury. Aside from being willing to oblige his mistress, Henry obviously had respect for Anne’s opinion in spite of her sex, and his admiration of her was again reflected in his creation of her as the only female and non-royal peer in England when he granted her the marquessate of Pembroke in her own right. While it is commonly believed that Anne was destroyed for her ‘inability’ to give the king a son, it is acknowledged among most historians now that it was Anne’s influence over Henry and his decisions, above those of even his favorite advisers, that largely brought on her fall. In his lust for power, Cromwell, the king’s chief henchman, feared that Anne would provide the king with a son and use her new power and intelligence to destroy him as she had once, almost a decade ago, torn down his precedent – Cardinal Wolsey, the most powerful man in the land next to the king – and in so, effectually freed Henry to be his own leader. Her quarreling with Cromwell reached its height in April 1536 when Anne was all that stood in his way of access to money from destroyed Catholic monasteries that she demanded to be put toward charity and education for the poor. He allied himself with factions supporting a woman who Nicholas Carew promised would be easily manipulated, as steadfast, politically-astute Anne Boleyn had not been, for their means as wife number three. Naturally, as queen-regnant of England, Elizabeth’s decisions were shaped largely by competent, hand-picked advisers, but the decision that defined her reign was entirely her own, and was perhaps even, to some degree, a tribute to her tragic mother.

Whether or not she was a virgin seems rather irrelevant in these more permissive days, but at any rate, Elizabeth never married, and historians debate the reason for this endlessly. If she married a foreign prince, then his country would take the charge of England. If she married an Englishman, there would be civil unrest between noble English families. If she married any man, then even as the queen, scripture would demand for her to cleave to her husband and the kingdom would puzzle over who their leader was. If she did not marry at all, the Tudor line her grandfather had struggled endlessly to bring to power would collapse. It was an “I’m damned if I do, I’m damned if I don’t” situation if ever in history there was one, and while facing the world alone definitely appears outwardly to be an act of pure fearlessness, ironically, fear definitely played a handsome part in her decision. Elizabeth feared men, and based on the story of her mother she had apt reason to. Just as Elizabeth was, Anne had been admired, beloved, and essentially worshipped by men, but she had been eventually betrayed and destroyed by them within ten years. Her mother’s life proved two valuable things: women could be powerful leaders and, for all their vows of undying love, men could not be trusted. Elizabeth never even said a word of her mother; by law Anne was a traitor found guilty of plotting her sovereign’s death and a whore who managed a harem of lovers which included her brother. However, a picture is worth a thousand words and a famous locket that Elizabeth wore on a secret ring unto death that depicted her mother and her, together, explains without fail what she felt about the most controversial Englishwoman in history.



What was Elizabeth’s opinion of her mother? Did she see in herself any trace of the mother she mentioned not once all her life? The epic mother-daughter duo can be compared and contrasted for centuries longer, but alas some things are damned as eternal puzzles. What is known without doubt is that Anne and Elizabeth were both champions of the Reformation and Renaissance, talented musicians and poets, charismatic and sexually charged leaders, and a pair of dark-eyed, alluring, and, ultimately, deeply lonely women whose distrust of men changed the course of history.

Sources
Ridgway, Claire. "The Anne Boleyn Files." The Anne Boleyn Files RSS. Wordpress, n.d. Web. 15 Mar. 2013.

Ives, E. W. The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn: 'the Most Happy' Malden, MA: Blackwell Pub., 2004. Print.