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Courting Scandal: The Rise and Fall of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford
Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford, was a lady-in-waiting at the court of Henry VIII. She has been described as a ‘wicked wife’, a ‘pathological meddler’ and an altogether ‘vicious’, ‘heartless’, and most ‘unnatural’ woman for the betrayal of her own husband, George Boleyn. Her intimate role in court intrigues sent not only her husband but two English queens, Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard, to the scaffold. For her involvement in the latter of these scandals Jane too lost her head.
On 13 February 1542, at about nine o’clock in the morning, Jane was executed at the Tower of London. In this book, James Taffe investigates how and why Jane ultimately met such a tragic end. He examines Jane’s career in the queen’s household, as a Maid-of-Honour, and later, a Lady of the Privy Chamber, which spanned two tumultuous decades and five of Henry VIII's six queens. To know and understand Jane, we must take her back to the household in which she served, and the court in which she lived. What emerges is not merely a story of service, but survival.
On 13 February 1542, at about nine o’clock in the morning, Jane was executed at the Tower of London. In this book, James Taffe investigates how and why Jane ultimately met such a tragic end. He examines Jane’s career in the queen’s household, as a Maid-of-Honour, and later, a Lady of the Privy Chamber, which spanned two tumultuous decades and five of Henry VIII's six queens. To know and understand Jane, we must take her back to the household in which she served, and the court in which she lived. What emerges is not merely a story of service, but survival.
253 pages, Paperback
First published February 8, 2023
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266 people want to read
About the author
James Taffe
5 books10 followersDr James Taffe is a Tudor historian whose research focuses on royal servants in the households of Henry VIII and his queens. Born in Birmingham, England, he studied at Queen Mary, University of London and University of Birmingham before completing his PhD at Durham University in 2022. Courting Scandal: The Rise and Fall of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford, is his first publication.
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Displaying 1 - 22 of 22 reviews
February 17, 2023
There is ironically no greater testament to our growing appreciation of Jane Boleyn’s importance in Tudor court history than to see a critical counter-revisionist biography of her appear.
Jane Parker, born sometime around 1505, married George Boleyn in the early 1520s, not long after her debut at the Tudor court. The exact date of their wedding is unclear. They remained married until his execution on 17 May 1536, two days before that of his sister, Queen Anne. Jane ultimately remained at court as a lady-in-waiting, before emerging as a favourite of Henry VIII’s fifth wife, Queen Catherine Howard. She was executed on the same day as the ex-queen Catherine in 1542, for allegedly facilitating nocturnal meetings between Catherine and courtier Thomas Culpepper. Despite Jane’s claim that Catherine and Thomas had committed adultery, she was condemned to death. During the course of her downfall, Jane suffered a nervous breakdown apparently severe enough for her to be labelled insane by her contemporaries. She was sent to be nursed back to health in a grotesque inversion of Hippocratic tenets by Lord and Lady Russell, on the King’s orders. Leaving nothing to chance, Henry VIII notoriously pushed through legislation to permit the execution of the insane for the first time in English history. Within a decade or so of Jane’s beheading, there were stories current and in print that painted her as a woman lacking in any moral fibre. In fact, she was, to quote another literary villain, presented as a cesspool of moral filth by a growing tribe of critics who insisted that she had been a “bird of ill omen” where English queens were concerned. Most damningly, the dead viscountess was identified as a leading witness against the Boleyns when they fell from grace in 1536, when she had allegedly committed perjury against them to secure her husband’s execution. This version of Jane Boleyn also continues to exert an influence with modern readers in popular culture, as seen in the characterisations of Jane in Philippa Gregory’s best-selling “The Boleyn Inheritance,” the 2003 mini-series “Henry VIII,” the hit television shows “The Tudors,” and the late Hilary Mantel’s “Bring up the Bodies”.
The revisionist argument, which gained momentum in the first decade of the 21st century, holds that Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford did not play any role in framing her husband George on a charge of incest with his sister, Queen Anne, and that Jane has since been the subject of misogynist bunkum for four centuries. This revisionist school on Rochford – including Julia Fox’s biography of Jane, Claire Ridgway and Clare Cherry’s biography of Jane’s husband George, a documentary by Tracy Borman, and a study by Charlie Fenton – has also inspired several excellent treatments in fiction, of which Adrienne Dillard’s “The Raven’s Widow,” which movingly and subtly is my favourite.
In “Courting Scandal,” Taffe questions if the historiographical pendulum has swung too far in a sympathetic direction – to the point that any hints of criticism of Rochford in the contemporary sources (broadly speaking, from the 1520s to 1540s) are simply discounted as misogynist, paranoid, deceitful, or a combination of all three, because her innocence is now presupposed and the evidence judged by whether it fits the conclusion, rather than vice-versa. Taffe argues that these more critical or ambiguous sources should at least be engaged with, to see if they reveal more information about Jane.
This is likely to be a book that is more enjoyable for academic readers, especially for those keen to engage with the historiography of the royal households under Henry VIII. Taffe – whose doctorate was gained with a study of the queen’s household in the reigns of Henry VII and Henry VIII – is familiar with the sources, assured in his grasp of them, and moves nimbly through the problems posed by various first-hand sources. It is provocative and intelligent. He also works well with the specialist studies that have recently emerged about the queen’s household, through his own research and that of his colleague Dr Nicola Clark, author of “Gender, Family, and Politics: The Howard Women, 1485-1558” (Oxford University Press, 2018).
As he moves through Jane’s life in the documents, Taffe occasionally argues that there is evidence that supports certain parts of the revisionist argument on Rochford, including its rejection of the old claim that Lady Rochford routinely betrayed the Boleyn faction before 1536. Broadly speaking however, this is a post-revisionist argument in which Rochford is by no means the monster of early legends, but she is certainly substantially less sympathetic than in the works of Julia Fox (2007) and Charlie Fenton (2021).
Taffe poses a difficult, and even chilling, question about the great figures of the Henrician court. So much of our focus as writers and readers is only on the royal court that we tend to see it as a moral universe, in which there are good guys and bad guys – heroes, villains, and victims. However, there was a whole world beyond the palace walls and, while not everybody went to court willingly, many did. Taffe therefore asks if there is always a binary between victim and perpetrator in cases of tyranny. Jane’s fate in 1542 was tragic, he argues, but that does not necessarily mean that she herself was not complicit in some of the Henrician regime’s earlier horrors. Put another way – is it credible that somebody could have survived, and often thrived, at Henry VIII’s court for twenty years without being prepared to mutilate their own conscience in order to do so? And this brutal question does not just apply to Jane, but to most of her courtly contemporaries. Thomas More, who handed down the death penalty to religious opponents when he was in favour only to then have it turned on him a few years later; Katherine of Aragon, who thought nothing of trying to send a dead king’s mutilated corpse to her husband as a grotesque trophy and then wept at her own demotion from the throne; Anne Boleyn, who pleaded for some religious dissenters but chose to remain thunderously mute as men were castrated, tortured, and hacked apart in the streets of London; Thomas Cromwell, who pushed the law to acrobatic limits of flexibility to deliver for his king the gold and heads that he wanted; Catherine Howard, who accepted the confiscated treasures of martyred monks and abbots; Thomas Cranmer, who condemned people to burn long before the same fate came to him. They all cheered the monster on, until the day it turned round and consumed them, too. Is it possible that so many of these sixteenth-century figures who have passionate admirers today – who see them as victims, heroes, geniuses, or even saints – were in fact simultaneously beneficiaries of this regime and its victims?
I’m not sure I agree with all of that, or even much of it, but it’s a brilliant question to ask. In Jane’s case, it’s a particularly pertinent one in regards her decisions after 1536 when she became a widow. Or, more accurately, after she was begrudgingly granted her jointure income by her estranged father-in-law, Lord Ormond. From that point on as a widow with her own substantial yet not enormous income, Jane had the legal and financial means to leave court and support herself, a luxury which very few of her contemporaries possessed. She chose to stay. Why? It’s potentially because, by then, life at court was all Jane knew, but that theory of gilded institutionalisation is suppositional on my part. I concede that the alternative suggestion – that she stayed because she loved life at court, even with its dangers – cannot be dismissed entirely, either.
Other parts of his arguments are likely to generate some controversy, which in itself is perhaps no bad thing - and there are parts of the book which fail to land as convincingly as the others. As with George Bernard – whose biography of Anne Boleyn was published by Yale University Press in 2011 – Taffe argues that the charges against Anne Boleyn in 1536 may have been more credible than otherwise. This argument seemed Taffe’s most suppositional, in relying quite heavily on evidence that is either missing or never existed. It seems to me that – as Dr Owen Emmerson has argued – the gaps in the evidence are no more likely to be concrete than the notoriously subpar evidence that has survived and that there’s firm reasons to believe that the evidence of 1536 was intentionally vague, rather than accidentally so. This book also relies too heavily on the possibilities of the ladies’ missing evidence to my mind. After reading “Courting Scandal,” I still think trying to endow the evidence of 1536 with this level of logical credibility is like trying to wrestle a mongoose into a dress and then call it a doll. Taffe’s argument that people have moved too quickly to dismiss the evidence against Anne Boleyn doesn’t convince either, when one considers that this evidence has been trawled through extensively and for longer than I’ve been alive. Since the publication of Retha Warnicke’s article “Sexual heresy at the court of Henry VIII” in 1985 and then Eric Ives’s biography of Anne Boleyn in 1986, there has barely been a year when the evidence of 1536 hasn’t been discussed in academic or popular history. As with Dr Bernard’s thesis however, Taffe’s is an argument that is extensively footnoted for those wishing to do further research. If it ultimately fails to convince, it does not fail to provoke thought and, hopefully, counter-arguments based on the evidence.
Similarly, Taffe raises enough questions about the missing journal of Anthony Anthony to ask if there is potentially validity to the late 16th century story that Jane provided some of the evidence that helped condemn her husband George to death in 1536. The Anthony journal, since lost, was still extant by the 1670s when Bishop Burnet cited it in his history of the Reformation in which he claimed that Jane had sided against her husband’s family during Anne’s downfall. This was the part of Taffe’s 1536 thesis that gave me real pause for thought. Bishop Burnet had access to many sources from the Tudor era – many of which have survived to our own generation, many of which have not. In the cases with those that have survived, we can see very clearly that Burnet did not mistranslate or fabricate with any of them, so the bishop’s claim that Jane “carried many Stories to the King, or some about him” to undermine Anne and George, cannot be conclusively debunked. It can certainly be queried, however. It is possible that Anthony was misreporting something, which Burnet then summarised. There are various possibilities while still reaching the logical conclusion that Jane did not commit perjury in 1536. Court gossip could have misidentified Jane’s role or Burnet could have summarised Anthony’s claims questionably. Taffe asks questions about what was possible with Jane’s involvement in the coup of 1536. As with his other arguments on the events of 1536, they are not definitive, but they are extremely interesting. I would have loved to see Taffe engage more with the possibility that Jane perhaps gave information to the prosecution unwillingly, or even unwittingly, for it then to be transmogrified or twisted by the prosecution
I hope it is not being reductive to say that “Courting Scandal” concludes that Jane Boleyn was, for its author, unpleasant but fascinating. Many will query Taffe’s summarisation of Jane as an “inveterate plotter and schemer.” But that was the world of the royal court, Taffe argues, and that was the milieu where Jane’s historical role began and ended – it is impossible to argue against that. The rest of his points will provoke debate, and fairly so. They will inspire some of the revisionists of Lady Rochford to look again at the sources. Some may change their minds on all or part of their arguments, but my greedy and hopeful instinct is that it will inspire rebuttals with equally intriguing, well-reasoned, and challenging counterpoints. I was not entirely convinced by everything in “Courting Scandal,” but that’s the point of a good debate. This book also brilliantly contributes to the growing body of literature that asks questions about the queen’s household in Tudor politics and in doing so validates its long-ignored importance and prompts us to keep asking questions about this fascinating institution - and the enigmatic, tragic, and nuanced people who served it, like Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford.
Note: In the interest of full disclosure in regards partiality, I point out that I read an advanced ARC of Adrienne Dillard's novel "The Raven's Widow," which, as I mentioned in the review, I enjoyed immensely, attended speaking engagements with Julia Fox and Nicola Clark, been interviewed by James Taffe, and attended an event with Charlie Fenton at which, very kindly, she gifted me a copy of her book on Lady Rochford. I include all this simply in case there's a suggestion I'm not disclosing a previous link to any of the mentioned authors.
Jane Parker, born sometime around 1505, married George Boleyn in the early 1520s, not long after her debut at the Tudor court. The exact date of their wedding is unclear. They remained married until his execution on 17 May 1536, two days before that of his sister, Queen Anne. Jane ultimately remained at court as a lady-in-waiting, before emerging as a favourite of Henry VIII’s fifth wife, Queen Catherine Howard. She was executed on the same day as the ex-queen Catherine in 1542, for allegedly facilitating nocturnal meetings between Catherine and courtier Thomas Culpepper. Despite Jane’s claim that Catherine and Thomas had committed adultery, she was condemned to death. During the course of her downfall, Jane suffered a nervous breakdown apparently severe enough for her to be labelled insane by her contemporaries. She was sent to be nursed back to health in a grotesque inversion of Hippocratic tenets by Lord and Lady Russell, on the King’s orders. Leaving nothing to chance, Henry VIII notoriously pushed through legislation to permit the execution of the insane for the first time in English history. Within a decade or so of Jane’s beheading, there were stories current and in print that painted her as a woman lacking in any moral fibre. In fact, she was, to quote another literary villain, presented as a cesspool of moral filth by a growing tribe of critics who insisted that she had been a “bird of ill omen” where English queens were concerned. Most damningly, the dead viscountess was identified as a leading witness against the Boleyns when they fell from grace in 1536, when she had allegedly committed perjury against them to secure her husband’s execution. This version of Jane Boleyn also continues to exert an influence with modern readers in popular culture, as seen in the characterisations of Jane in Philippa Gregory’s best-selling “The Boleyn Inheritance,” the 2003 mini-series “Henry VIII,” the hit television shows “The Tudors,” and the late Hilary Mantel’s “Bring up the Bodies”.
The revisionist argument, which gained momentum in the first decade of the 21st century, holds that Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford did not play any role in framing her husband George on a charge of incest with his sister, Queen Anne, and that Jane has since been the subject of misogynist bunkum for four centuries. This revisionist school on Rochford – including Julia Fox’s biography of Jane, Claire Ridgway and Clare Cherry’s biography of Jane’s husband George, a documentary by Tracy Borman, and a study by Charlie Fenton – has also inspired several excellent treatments in fiction, of which Adrienne Dillard’s “The Raven’s Widow,” which movingly and subtly is my favourite.
In “Courting Scandal,” Taffe questions if the historiographical pendulum has swung too far in a sympathetic direction – to the point that any hints of criticism of Rochford in the contemporary sources (broadly speaking, from the 1520s to 1540s) are simply discounted as misogynist, paranoid, deceitful, or a combination of all three, because her innocence is now presupposed and the evidence judged by whether it fits the conclusion, rather than vice-versa. Taffe argues that these more critical or ambiguous sources should at least be engaged with, to see if they reveal more information about Jane.
This is likely to be a book that is more enjoyable for academic readers, especially for those keen to engage with the historiography of the royal households under Henry VIII. Taffe – whose doctorate was gained with a study of the queen’s household in the reigns of Henry VII and Henry VIII – is familiar with the sources, assured in his grasp of them, and moves nimbly through the problems posed by various first-hand sources. It is provocative and intelligent. He also works well with the specialist studies that have recently emerged about the queen’s household, through his own research and that of his colleague Dr Nicola Clark, author of “Gender, Family, and Politics: The Howard Women, 1485-1558” (Oxford University Press, 2018).
As he moves through Jane’s life in the documents, Taffe occasionally argues that there is evidence that supports certain parts of the revisionist argument on Rochford, including its rejection of the old claim that Lady Rochford routinely betrayed the Boleyn faction before 1536. Broadly speaking however, this is a post-revisionist argument in which Rochford is by no means the monster of early legends, but she is certainly substantially less sympathetic than in the works of Julia Fox (2007) and Charlie Fenton (2021).
Taffe poses a difficult, and even chilling, question about the great figures of the Henrician court. So much of our focus as writers and readers is only on the royal court that we tend to see it as a moral universe, in which there are good guys and bad guys – heroes, villains, and victims. However, there was a whole world beyond the palace walls and, while not everybody went to court willingly, many did. Taffe therefore asks if there is always a binary between victim and perpetrator in cases of tyranny. Jane’s fate in 1542 was tragic, he argues, but that does not necessarily mean that she herself was not complicit in some of the Henrician regime’s earlier horrors. Put another way – is it credible that somebody could have survived, and often thrived, at Henry VIII’s court for twenty years without being prepared to mutilate their own conscience in order to do so? And this brutal question does not just apply to Jane, but to most of her courtly contemporaries. Thomas More, who handed down the death penalty to religious opponents when he was in favour only to then have it turned on him a few years later; Katherine of Aragon, who thought nothing of trying to send a dead king’s mutilated corpse to her husband as a grotesque trophy and then wept at her own demotion from the throne; Anne Boleyn, who pleaded for some religious dissenters but chose to remain thunderously mute as men were castrated, tortured, and hacked apart in the streets of London; Thomas Cromwell, who pushed the law to acrobatic limits of flexibility to deliver for his king the gold and heads that he wanted; Catherine Howard, who accepted the confiscated treasures of martyred monks and abbots; Thomas Cranmer, who condemned people to burn long before the same fate came to him. They all cheered the monster on, until the day it turned round and consumed them, too. Is it possible that so many of these sixteenth-century figures who have passionate admirers today – who see them as victims, heroes, geniuses, or even saints – were in fact simultaneously beneficiaries of this regime and its victims?
I’m not sure I agree with all of that, or even much of it, but it’s a brilliant question to ask. In Jane’s case, it’s a particularly pertinent one in regards her decisions after 1536 when she became a widow. Or, more accurately, after she was begrudgingly granted her jointure income by her estranged father-in-law, Lord Ormond. From that point on as a widow with her own substantial yet not enormous income, Jane had the legal and financial means to leave court and support herself, a luxury which very few of her contemporaries possessed. She chose to stay. Why? It’s potentially because, by then, life at court was all Jane knew, but that theory of gilded institutionalisation is suppositional on my part. I concede that the alternative suggestion – that she stayed because she loved life at court, even with its dangers – cannot be dismissed entirely, either.
Other parts of his arguments are likely to generate some controversy, which in itself is perhaps no bad thing - and there are parts of the book which fail to land as convincingly as the others. As with George Bernard – whose biography of Anne Boleyn was published by Yale University Press in 2011 – Taffe argues that the charges against Anne Boleyn in 1536 may have been more credible than otherwise. This argument seemed Taffe’s most suppositional, in relying quite heavily on evidence that is either missing or never existed. It seems to me that – as Dr Owen Emmerson has argued – the gaps in the evidence are no more likely to be concrete than the notoriously subpar evidence that has survived and that there’s firm reasons to believe that the evidence of 1536 was intentionally vague, rather than accidentally so. This book also relies too heavily on the possibilities of the ladies’ missing evidence to my mind. After reading “Courting Scandal,” I still think trying to endow the evidence of 1536 with this level of logical credibility is like trying to wrestle a mongoose into a dress and then call it a doll. Taffe’s argument that people have moved too quickly to dismiss the evidence against Anne Boleyn doesn’t convince either, when one considers that this evidence has been trawled through extensively and for longer than I’ve been alive. Since the publication of Retha Warnicke’s article “Sexual heresy at the court of Henry VIII” in 1985 and then Eric Ives’s biography of Anne Boleyn in 1986, there has barely been a year when the evidence of 1536 hasn’t been discussed in academic or popular history. As with Dr Bernard’s thesis however, Taffe’s is an argument that is extensively footnoted for those wishing to do further research. If it ultimately fails to convince, it does not fail to provoke thought and, hopefully, counter-arguments based on the evidence.
Similarly, Taffe raises enough questions about the missing journal of Anthony Anthony to ask if there is potentially validity to the late 16th century story that Jane provided some of the evidence that helped condemn her husband George to death in 1536. The Anthony journal, since lost, was still extant by the 1670s when Bishop Burnet cited it in his history of the Reformation in which he claimed that Jane had sided against her husband’s family during Anne’s downfall. This was the part of Taffe’s 1536 thesis that gave me real pause for thought. Bishop Burnet had access to many sources from the Tudor era – many of which have survived to our own generation, many of which have not. In the cases with those that have survived, we can see very clearly that Burnet did not mistranslate or fabricate with any of them, so the bishop’s claim that Jane “carried many Stories to the King, or some about him” to undermine Anne and George, cannot be conclusively debunked. It can certainly be queried, however. It is possible that Anthony was misreporting something, which Burnet then summarised. There are various possibilities while still reaching the logical conclusion that Jane did not commit perjury in 1536. Court gossip could have misidentified Jane’s role or Burnet could have summarised Anthony’s claims questionably. Taffe asks questions about what was possible with Jane’s involvement in the coup of 1536. As with his other arguments on the events of 1536, they are not definitive, but they are extremely interesting. I would have loved to see Taffe engage more with the possibility that Jane perhaps gave information to the prosecution unwillingly, or even unwittingly, for it then to be transmogrified or twisted by the prosecution
I hope it is not being reductive to say that “Courting Scandal” concludes that Jane Boleyn was, for its author, unpleasant but fascinating. Many will query Taffe’s summarisation of Jane as an “inveterate plotter and schemer.” But that was the world of the royal court, Taffe argues, and that was the milieu where Jane’s historical role began and ended – it is impossible to argue against that. The rest of his points will provoke debate, and fairly so. They will inspire some of the revisionists of Lady Rochford to look again at the sources. Some may change their minds on all or part of their arguments, but my greedy and hopeful instinct is that it will inspire rebuttals with equally intriguing, well-reasoned, and challenging counterpoints. I was not entirely convinced by everything in “Courting Scandal,” but that’s the point of a good debate. This book also brilliantly contributes to the growing body of literature that asks questions about the queen’s household in Tudor politics and in doing so validates its long-ignored importance and prompts us to keep asking questions about this fascinating institution - and the enigmatic, tragic, and nuanced people who served it, like Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford.
Note: In the interest of full disclosure in regards partiality, I point out that I read an advanced ARC of Adrienne Dillard's novel "The Raven's Widow," which, as I mentioned in the review, I enjoyed immensely, attended speaking engagements with Julia Fox and Nicola Clark, been interviewed by James Taffe, and attended an event with Charlie Fenton at which, very kindly, she gifted me a copy of her book on Lady Rochford. I include all this simply in case there's a suggestion I'm not disclosing a previous link to any of the mentioned authors.
March 12, 2023
This is a deeply unfortunate book. In lieu of offering an original interpretation of manuscript sources and historiography, it rehashes dated and discredited, mainly secondary, sources in an attempt to disesteem the more temperate and accurate views of Lady Rochford of the last decade. There appears to be no original research, every source is familiar, every source on Jane has been discussed before, and the result is sadly riddled with inaccuracies, with areas of confusion and contradiction. With those dated and discredited sources come the same misogynistic views that have plagued Jane for centuries. Not only does the author call Jane ‘conniving, meddlesome, and an inveterate plotter and schemer’, they go so far as to suggest Jane’s ‘talent for intrigue’, ‘calculated servility’ and ‘self-survival’ are what she should be remembered for. These are incredibly tired stereotypes to apply to a woman who was judicially murdered by a violent tyrant, a woman who was in the midst of a mental breakdown brought on after years of serving the same tyrant that had framed and murdered her husband and sister-in-law. An ineffectual attempt to discredit feminist and empathetic readings of Lady Rochford. Zero stars.
___________________________
PS (Feb 19): There was one more one star review of this book, by an author who has also spent years researching Jane, and who is my friend. We posted our reviews close together as we read it at the same time. I noticed on the same day a new Goodreads private account pop up and leave five stars for this book, and told my friend to keep an eye on it. Sure enough, the same account and three other fakes have been created to leave one star ratings on my friend's books. All accounts are private. All left five stars for this book, and one star reviews for my friend's books.
The author complained about my friend's review on social media, which was then deleted out of the distress they suffered as a result. The author has now taken to Twitter again complaining about what I can only assume is my review, as the only negative review left. I am not a published author, thankfully for me, so his friends can't review bomb me. His friends, some of them professional historians, are now making puerile attacks on my character and 'credentials'. The author refused to comment when confronted about this behaviour, so if they haven't made the accounts up themselves, they are least encouraging it. The silence from other historians who have learned of this is deafening.
My opinion is based on my own years of research. It's very sad that the author is so upset about it, but perhaps it's better to address issues raised by readers rather than trying to bully them to remove reviews.
___________________________
PS (Feb 19): There was one more one star review of this book, by an author who has also spent years researching Jane, and who is my friend. We posted our reviews close together as we read it at the same time. I noticed on the same day a new Goodreads private account pop up and leave five stars for this book, and told my friend to keep an eye on it. Sure enough, the same account and three other fakes have been created to leave one star ratings on my friend's books. All accounts are private. All left five stars for this book, and one star reviews for my friend's books.
The author complained about my friend's review on social media, which was then deleted out of the distress they suffered as a result. The author has now taken to Twitter again complaining about what I can only assume is my review, as the only negative review left. I am not a published author, thankfully for me, so his friends can't review bomb me. His friends, some of them professional historians, are now making puerile attacks on my character and 'credentials'. The author refused to comment when confronted about this behaviour, so if they haven't made the accounts up themselves, they are least encouraging it. The silence from other historians who have learned of this is deafening.
My opinion is based on my own years of research. It's very sad that the author is so upset about it, but perhaps it's better to address issues raised by readers rather than trying to bully them to remove reviews.
February 16, 2023
This beautifully written, scholarly study of the life of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford is a welcome and important addition to the growing study of the women employed in the household of Tudor queens. Thick with detail, and sharp on analysis, Taffe skilfully weaves together the often opaque life of Jane and asks if we should reconsider if the recent rehabilitation of Jane’s life. In doing so, Taffe suggests that we may have overlooked the complexities of Jane’s actions and, perhaps most importantly, her agency.
This study approaches the contentious question of Jane’s role in numerous machinations head on and, like all important works, is bound to court controversy. Going up against many years worth of brilliant and scholarly revisionist study from the likes of Julia Fox, Claire Ridgway, Charlie Fenton and Adrienne Dillard - plus a recent documentary headed by Tracy Borman - Taffe’s task was not an easy one. Still, he has confidently re-appraised the question of Jane’s culpability, and has done so without monstering her. I may disagree with some of Taffe’s conclusions, but they have left me with a welcome sense of urgency to always question my own findings. It is also a brilliant example of why we must consider a wide range of differing perspectives to challenge our own.
The real triumph of this book is highlighting the importance of the ladies of the queen’s household, the parameters of the functions they served, and placing these women in the wider content of court life and politics. Whether Jane regularly and knowingly overstepped these parameters or not, using her as case study in this often overlooked field is a genius way of shining a light onto the all-too often shadowed realm which the women of the queen’s household inhabit. A triumph.
This study approaches the contentious question of Jane’s role in numerous machinations head on and, like all important works, is bound to court controversy. Going up against many years worth of brilliant and scholarly revisionist study from the likes of Julia Fox, Claire Ridgway, Charlie Fenton and Adrienne Dillard - plus a recent documentary headed by Tracy Borman - Taffe’s task was not an easy one. Still, he has confidently re-appraised the question of Jane’s culpability, and has done so without monstering her. I may disagree with some of Taffe’s conclusions, but they have left me with a welcome sense of urgency to always question my own findings. It is also a brilliant example of why we must consider a wide range of differing perspectives to challenge our own.
The real triumph of this book is highlighting the importance of the ladies of the queen’s household, the parameters of the functions they served, and placing these women in the wider content of court life and politics. Whether Jane regularly and knowingly overstepped these parameters or not, using her as case study in this often overlooked field is a genius way of shining a light onto the all-too often shadowed realm which the women of the queen’s household inhabit. A triumph.
February 28, 2023
Good, a solid, comprehensive study of the life of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford. It didn't come to any new conclusions (and I was mildly disappointed it drew much the same conclusion about Lady Rochford as the rest of history has). Well written and clear, a fairly balanced account. Recommend
January 23, 2025
If Julia Fox's biography is the defence, then this book is very much the case for the prosecution of Jane, Lady Rochford, and, as such, is too partial an account to be a fair assessment of her character, while, being a product of the author's doctoral thesis on the early Tudor queens' households, Jane's story too often feels like an add-on to enliven what otherwise might be a dull, administrative monograph.
James Taffe admits there are only very limited sources that pertain directly to Jane's life outside of the trials of Anne Boleyn and later that of herself and Katherine Howard, and that therefore much interpretation of her life depends upon conjecture, which unfortunately has allowed, in the absence of evidence, those who wish to pursue a particular narrative too great a leeway in assessing Jane.
Taffe, with little direct evidence, asserts that Jane's marriage to George Boleyn was unhappy and estranged, and then uses this to explain Jane's testimony against her husband and his sister in 1536, implying she perjured herself to get rid of a husband she no longer wanted, even at material and reputational cost to herself.
However, Taffe shows how Jane was originally supportive of her husband, seeking to approach Henry VIII on his behalf, but then does not adequately explain why she then provided evidence against Anne and George Boleyn, alleging an incestuous relationship. Yet, by the time Jane provided her testimony, it was clear that the case against Anne was sufficient to lead to conviction, particularly as this was known to be the King's will, and while, as Taffe asserts, it was possible that George would be acquitted, Jane could not be sure, and if he was found guilty, and it subsequently emerged she had withheld evidence, she would be guilty of misprison of treason, a possibility the author does not consider. If Jane did believe that there was an unnatural relationship between the Boleyns, or even that there were sufficient suspicions abroad thereof and he was condemned, in the fervid atmosphere of a court where even the Queen could lose her head, it made sense for Jane to unburden herself of any suspicions in order to protect herself, even at the cost of her husband's life, particularly if she thought it already forfeit. There is little doubt Jane's evidence assured George's conviction, but to assert it was perjured would require more substantive proof of Jane's intended malevolence. What is most likely is that Jane proffered her allegations of incest only once it became apparent how serious the situation had become as a means of protecting herself when either she believed the charges against George were true or that they were sufficiently substantiated as to lead to his being found guilty. Jane may well, have believed that by saving herself she was not harming others who were already likely to be found guilty even if innocent.
When it comes to her own downfall and that of Katherine Howard in 1541, Taffe somehow manages to make Jane appear the most guilty party, when it was clear that Katherine was the initiator of the romantic intrigue with Thomas Culpepper, while Culpepper was as enthusiastic as the Queen in his returning of her affection, later willingly admitting that he intended to have sex with Katherine, an intention that was of itself treasonous, and that she had the same intent. There is no doubt that Jane was criminally at fault in aiding the chaste lovers, but there is no evidence she was the provoker of or manipulator behind what was probably at its start a relatively innocent flirtation. Jane, probably feeling sympathetic to the young lovers, was a willing abettor, but was not aware of just how far Katherine had compromised herself before her marriage to Henry. When Jane did discover the true nature of the Queen's previous sexual history, she did in her evidence try what she could to distance herself from the treason, but by then it was too late. And, when the handsome and dashing Culpepper and the beautiful, young Queen went to their deaths, it was easy for those seeking to blame someone else for their grisly ends that Jane Rochford - the woman who had testified against her own husband - should provide the scapegoat, not only for contemporaries, but for history.
Jane Rochford remains, mainly because so little is known about her, an enigma, but that is no reason for her to be maligned simply because she was so intimately involved in the two greatest scandals of the reign of Henry VIII, whose domineering and malevolent presence is remarkably absent in this book, namely, the fall of Anne Boleyn and the fall of Katherine Howard. Jane was a witness to and bit player in history, and with so little known about her, it is unjust and ahistorical to impose upon her a malevolence and cunning that cannot be justified by the evidence, and which fails to adequately account for the psychological pressures to which she was exposed through the misjudgements of Anne Boleyn and the sheer folly of Katherine Howard, queens she was sworn to serve,
James Taffe admits there are only very limited sources that pertain directly to Jane's life outside of the trials of Anne Boleyn and later that of herself and Katherine Howard, and that therefore much interpretation of her life depends upon conjecture, which unfortunately has allowed, in the absence of evidence, those who wish to pursue a particular narrative too great a leeway in assessing Jane.
Taffe, with little direct evidence, asserts that Jane's marriage to George Boleyn was unhappy and estranged, and then uses this to explain Jane's testimony against her husband and his sister in 1536, implying she perjured herself to get rid of a husband she no longer wanted, even at material and reputational cost to herself.
However, Taffe shows how Jane was originally supportive of her husband, seeking to approach Henry VIII on his behalf, but then does not adequately explain why she then provided evidence against Anne and George Boleyn, alleging an incestuous relationship. Yet, by the time Jane provided her testimony, it was clear that the case against Anne was sufficient to lead to conviction, particularly as this was known to be the King's will, and while, as Taffe asserts, it was possible that George would be acquitted, Jane could not be sure, and if he was found guilty, and it subsequently emerged she had withheld evidence, she would be guilty of misprison of treason, a possibility the author does not consider. If Jane did believe that there was an unnatural relationship between the Boleyns, or even that there were sufficient suspicions abroad thereof and he was condemned, in the fervid atmosphere of a court where even the Queen could lose her head, it made sense for Jane to unburden herself of any suspicions in order to protect herself, even at the cost of her husband's life, particularly if she thought it already forfeit. There is little doubt Jane's evidence assured George's conviction, but to assert it was perjured would require more substantive proof of Jane's intended malevolence. What is most likely is that Jane proffered her allegations of incest only once it became apparent how serious the situation had become as a means of protecting herself when either she believed the charges against George were true or that they were sufficiently substantiated as to lead to his being found guilty. Jane may well, have believed that by saving herself she was not harming others who were already likely to be found guilty even if innocent.
When it comes to her own downfall and that of Katherine Howard in 1541, Taffe somehow manages to make Jane appear the most guilty party, when it was clear that Katherine was the initiator of the romantic intrigue with Thomas Culpepper, while Culpepper was as enthusiastic as the Queen in his returning of her affection, later willingly admitting that he intended to have sex with Katherine, an intention that was of itself treasonous, and that she had the same intent. There is no doubt that Jane was criminally at fault in aiding the chaste lovers, but there is no evidence she was the provoker of or manipulator behind what was probably at its start a relatively innocent flirtation. Jane, probably feeling sympathetic to the young lovers, was a willing abettor, but was not aware of just how far Katherine had compromised herself before her marriage to Henry. When Jane did discover the true nature of the Queen's previous sexual history, she did in her evidence try what she could to distance herself from the treason, but by then it was too late. And, when the handsome and dashing Culpepper and the beautiful, young Queen went to their deaths, it was easy for those seeking to blame someone else for their grisly ends that Jane Rochford - the woman who had testified against her own husband - should provide the scapegoat, not only for contemporaries, but for history.
Jane Rochford remains, mainly because so little is known about her, an enigma, but that is no reason for her to be maligned simply because she was so intimately involved in the two greatest scandals of the reign of Henry VIII, whose domineering and malevolent presence is remarkably absent in this book, namely, the fall of Anne Boleyn and the fall of Katherine Howard. Jane was a witness to and bit player in history, and with so little known about her, it is unjust and ahistorical to impose upon her a malevolence and cunning that cannot be justified by the evidence, and which fails to adequately account for the psychological pressures to which she was exposed through the misjudgements of Anne Boleyn and the sheer folly of Katherine Howard, queens she was sworn to serve,
Want to read
February 22, 2023Even though Amazon lists a paperback version, searches for that ISBN number find nothing. Is it only available on Kindle right now?
July 4, 2024
A lot of stuff in this book on the topic of servants in the Tudor period and the various roles in the royal household, much more than I'd expected as I thought this would be the usual narrative biography that the title seems to suggest. It's interesting information, though might be a bit much if you're just looking for a life of Jane Boleyn. At times I found the mix a bit annoying, because I'd be getting into all this fascinating detail and then suddenly it's back to the well-known story of adulterous queens, and then the same when it switched back again. It doesn't feel partcularly well-balanced, and I note that the author's next work will be on Tudor servants - perhaps that's the book they wanted to write all along? (I'd read it!)
Another issue is that for Jane and Anne Boleyn as well as Katherine Howard the author goes along with accusations that are contemporary but since challenged by historians, for instance that Anne Boleyn really did commit adultery and Jane Boleyn definitely gave decisivie evidence against her husband. Fair enough if he genuinely thinks that but they're presented as (mostly) uncontroversial facts with nothing like the level of argument they need in a modern work. Given the nature of the crimes/alleged crimes and the centuries of scandal and slander it's hard to avoid that seeming like unthinking misogyny and I don't think this book does manage to avoid that, purely because they're presented as facts everyone will agree with.
Towards the end the book leaves the general topic of servants and sticks more to Jane and to Katherine Howard, and at this point what unfortunately (for me) stands out is the author's willingness to believe every word Culpeper said while pouring doubt on what the women claimed had happened, which with the previous issue ends up feeling vaguely unpleasant.
Another reviewer said this book is revisionism of prior revisionism, in that the recent pro-Jane works are now being argued against by other books and it's certainly interesting to see that happening in modern times with a relatively little-studied figure. This book's conclusion is also interesting to me, as it takes the view that Jane being responsible for her own downfall does at least allow her some agency - she made her own way in life, even if that ended in disaster for her and others around her.
Another issue is that for Jane and Anne Boleyn as well as Katherine Howard the author goes along with accusations that are contemporary but since challenged by historians, for instance that Anne Boleyn really did commit adultery and Jane Boleyn definitely gave decisivie evidence against her husband. Fair enough if he genuinely thinks that but they're presented as (mostly) uncontroversial facts with nothing like the level of argument they need in a modern work. Given the nature of the crimes/alleged crimes and the centuries of scandal and slander it's hard to avoid that seeming like unthinking misogyny and I don't think this book does manage to avoid that, purely because they're presented as facts everyone will agree with.
Towards the end the book leaves the general topic of servants and sticks more to Jane and to Katherine Howard, and at this point what unfortunately (for me) stands out is the author's willingness to believe every word Culpeper said while pouring doubt on what the women claimed had happened, which with the previous issue ends up feeling vaguely unpleasant.
Another reviewer said this book is revisionism of prior revisionism, in that the recent pro-Jane works are now being argued against by other books and it's certainly interesting to see that happening in modern times with a relatively little-studied figure. This book's conclusion is also interesting to me, as it takes the view that Jane being responsible for her own downfall does at least allow her some agency - she made her own way in life, even if that ended in disaster for her and others around her.
March 31, 2023
I enjoyed James Taffe’s well-researched book on Jane Parker, Lady Rochford, the unfortunate wife of George Boleyn, who was executed alongside Katherine Howard. As someone who knew little about this woman, I found her background fascinating and Taffe’s speculation about her motives intriguing. I especially enjoyed the primary sources from which he quoted directly - I love reading the unusual spelling and word choice of the 16th century.
Overall, a very good book. I did feel the author spent a little too much time on non-Rochford details and wish he had delved into George and Jane’s marriage a bit more. I recommend this book for anyone interested in this cryptic 16th century woman.
Overall, a very good book. I did feel the author spent a little too much time on non-Rochford details and wish he had delved into George and Jane’s marriage a bit more. I recommend this book for anyone interested in this cryptic 16th century woman.
April 6, 2023
I’ve always felt sorry for Jane Boleyn Lady Rochford so was excited to see this book it’s a fascinating read and a well balanced look at Janes life
August 13, 2023
I’ve just finished reading “Courting Scandal: The Rise and Fall of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford” by Dr James Taffe. The book is a great, fresh new look at one of history’s most controversial women.
There is a lot of interesting background, such as the Parker family’s relationship with Margaret Beaufort in Jane’s early life. It also goes into great detail about the day to day life at court which Jane would have experienced and the roles within the Queen’s household. I thought it was interesting to learn that the ladies-in-waiting had to reflect the mood of the Queen too, for example, if she was sad, they had to be sad too.
The book also gives an interesting perspective on the true nature of Jane and George’s marriage, which is to this day a big area of contention.
There’s a good reflection on Jane’s banishment from Court in 1534 and how it’s possible she may have never returned to court for the remainder of the time that Anne Boleyn was Queen. I think this is something crucial that has been overlooked for some time when looking at Jane’s part in the fall of Anne and George Boleyn.
There was other interesting food for thought to consider such as how close the Parker family were with the Princess Mary and also Jane’s relationship with Thomas Cromwell. It was particularly good to see in full Jane’s letter to Cromwell as a widow, where she is asking for financial help. It’s very possible that Jane had acted as a spy for him, so she would have been extremely useful for him.
The book also offers a fresh new perspective of Jane’s role in Catherine Howard and Thomas Culpepper’s affair. The idea of possible jealousy amongst the servants and even the possibility that Jane may have had a soft spot for Culpepper herself I agree are definitely factors to consider when investigating the affair.
The book also explores the plausibility that Jane may have feigned her madness when facing death. As we know, this is also another great area of contention, but it’s definitely a possibility to consider when looking at her last days and her attempt to simply fight for her life.
Whatever your opinion of Jane Boleyn and whether you believe that she deserves her reputation as “The Infamous Lady Rochford”, the one thing that I think that we can all agree on is that for some time she was a survivor in an environment which was described by one historian as essentially “A Bearpit”. She played the game and yes, unfortunately she lost the game. However, she did play the game well for a significant amount of time and this alone is something that I think is remarkable.
I definitely recommend this book for all lovers of the Tudor period - there is always something interesting and new to learn about this fascinating period of history.
There is a lot of interesting background, such as the Parker family’s relationship with Margaret Beaufort in Jane’s early life. It also goes into great detail about the day to day life at court which Jane would have experienced and the roles within the Queen’s household. I thought it was interesting to learn that the ladies-in-waiting had to reflect the mood of the Queen too, for example, if she was sad, they had to be sad too.
The book also gives an interesting perspective on the true nature of Jane and George’s marriage, which is to this day a big area of contention.
There’s a good reflection on Jane’s banishment from Court in 1534 and how it’s possible she may have never returned to court for the remainder of the time that Anne Boleyn was Queen. I think this is something crucial that has been overlooked for some time when looking at Jane’s part in the fall of Anne and George Boleyn.
There was other interesting food for thought to consider such as how close the Parker family were with the Princess Mary and also Jane’s relationship with Thomas Cromwell. It was particularly good to see in full Jane’s letter to Cromwell as a widow, where she is asking for financial help. It’s very possible that Jane had acted as a spy for him, so she would have been extremely useful for him.
The book also offers a fresh new perspective of Jane’s role in Catherine Howard and Thomas Culpepper’s affair. The idea of possible jealousy amongst the servants and even the possibility that Jane may have had a soft spot for Culpepper herself I agree are definitely factors to consider when investigating the affair.
The book also explores the plausibility that Jane may have feigned her madness when facing death. As we know, this is also another great area of contention, but it’s definitely a possibility to consider when looking at her last days and her attempt to simply fight for her life.
Whatever your opinion of Jane Boleyn and whether you believe that she deserves her reputation as “The Infamous Lady Rochford”, the one thing that I think that we can all agree on is that for some time she was a survivor in an environment which was described by one historian as essentially “A Bearpit”. She played the game and yes, unfortunately she lost the game. However, she did play the game well for a significant amount of time and this alone is something that I think is remarkable.
I definitely recommend this book for all lovers of the Tudor period - there is always something interesting and new to learn about this fascinating period of history.
August 10, 2023
This book was very interesting, lots of information on serving the many queens of Henry VIII. Little is know about Jane, but I feel like the author shared everything that can be known. I did not care for the original quotes being in their original spelling, it made them hard to understand at times. I don't think it would have taken away from their importance to translate them into modern English.
December 31, 2023
One of the most frustrating people in Tudor history. We have so little to tell us why Jane did what she did at the end. For someone who spent their career in the highest circles of Court, survived the deaths of her sister-in-law and husband, and understood the politics of the court, her actions with KH never made sense. I appreciate the deep dive into the privy chamber and a realistic, believable explanation for Jane's actions.
April 16, 2023
The Facts Question Myth
Using historical documentation, the author paints an interesting portrait of a lady who served 5 queens in the life of Henry the Eigth. As a result, how a woman used her power to better herself or survive as a simple human being during this time is questioned.
Using historical documentation, the author paints an interesting portrait of a lady who served 5 queens in the life of Henry the Eigth. As a result, how a woman used her power to better herself or survive as a simple human being during this time is questioned.
March 18, 2023
A great read
An intriguing examination of Jane Boleyn that examines the historical record, such that can be found for a woman of the time period, with clarity for the facts found within the record and without pushing a personal position on the subject
An intriguing examination of Jane Boleyn that examines the historical record, such that can be found for a woman of the time period, with clarity for the facts found within the record and without pushing a personal position on the subject
May 2, 2023
I enjoyed learning more about the court politics and households of Henry VIII’s queens. While I didn’t necessarily agree with some of the author’s perspectives, it makes you think about things from a different perspective.
February 21, 2025
I really enjoyed this! It's very much written as an academic rather than popular history text (translating all the Tudor spellings was a PITA) but fascinating insight into the private court of the Tudors.
February 26, 2025
A Glimpse Inside the Tudor Court
I really enjoyed this book. The author includes many intriguing details and seems very objective about who Jane really was. No whitewashing here.
I really enjoyed this book. The author includes many intriguing details and seems very objective about who Jane really was. No whitewashing here.
March 5, 2025
3.5 stars. This is the second biography of Jane Boleyn I've read in a year, and I enjoyed it. Like other historical figures, there is a lot less evidence of what people are are actually doing in their lives. I'm not sure I agreed with all of the author's arguments, but it was an interesting read.
May 30, 2023
Some of the book gave a good overview of Tudor life in general rather than Jane Rochford’s life in particular, but the last two chapters were excellent!
December 2, 2023
Whilst only the last few chapters really discussed Lady Rochford in any depth (most of the book discussed the courts of Henry viii’s queen’s), it was an interesting read.
February 28, 2024
The best bit(s)? Reading verbatim the letters etc. Othwerwise, lots of 'facts' about the court in general, which was interesting, but nothing new that I could see about Jane.
December 20, 2023
The problem with Jane Parker is she is a single tree in a forest of women surrounding the queens-consort of Henry VIII, so Taffe takes a look at the forest as a whole, to get a picture of what was life for women of the Tudor court. It's a fascinating lens to look at Tudor life through and see just how much work these women were doing, both on a household and diplomatic scale, and deserved more study for the support they provided to a sphere too often expected to be entirely male.
We get a few specifics during Anne Boleyn's time as queen, but more hints than facts as to what Jane was up to, and then a murky picture as to what role she played in Anne's downfall. Taffe thinks she co-operated, hence Cromwell making sure she had money and a position afterwards, but I lean more to Jane being manipulated and taken advantage of rather than doing anything voluntarily.
Either way, when Katherine Howard becomes queen, we get a lot more details on what Jane did and how it lead to her and the queen's downfall, but again, Taffe seems to think Jane was scheming and planning a lore more than I think the facts support. It's a very big grey area, and I do appreciate Taffe attempting to shine a light through the fog, though we clearly have come to different conclusions.
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