As the light gently fades of an evening in the Great Chamber of Hever Castle, where Anne Boleyn spent much of her youth, the rippling moat which surrounds the fortress casts glittering reflections onto a 16th Century tapestry hanging in that space. Visitors to Hever have spent hours searching for the elusive face of Anne Boleyn in that tapestry, for it was believed to illustrate the wedding of King Louis XII of France to Princess Mary Tudor: Henry VIII’s sister. That wedding was an event that Anne Boleyn may well have attended in 1514, when she entered the French court. As the twilit luminescence dances across the many faces woven into that tapestry, one could be forgiven for believing that they had momentarily awoken from their inanimate state. However, just as light play can change our perception of an historical object, so too can the study of that object’s history and construction.
When the tapestry was expertly restored by The Textile Conservancy Company in 2016, it became evident that significant alterations had been made to it. Patches had been discretely sewn in where the original edges had frayed, and where key segments had eroded over time. They had, no doubt, been added by its earlier conservators to mirror that which had been lost. Soot from exposure to the smoke from hundreds of years’ worth of open fires had obscured a significant part of the tapestry’s story, calling into question our understanding of what is depicted. Layers of dirt had cloaked an original woven inscription upon the bride’s gown, identifying her not as Mary Tudor, but as Queen “Esther.” The smoke and mirrors of time had provided us with a seemingly complete picture of the past, despite the significant losses to that image since its creation.
While this tapestry could have been created to allegorically depict both the marriage of Mary Tudor and the biblical marriage of Queen Esther to King Ahasuerus, it is also possible that it was erroneously linked to Mary Tudor years later. While looking for the face of a youthful Anne Boleyn in the wedding congregation, we have been blinded to a more troubling connection between the tapestry and Anne’s story. In the final days of her queenship, Anne was making very public and dangerous allegories of her own. It was the story of Queen Esther and her triumph over King Ahasuerus’ wicked advisor, Haman, which was evoked by Anne’s almoner, John Skipp, in his Passion Sunday sermon of 1536. It was a bold and dangerous move, played before King and court, and it laid bare the increasingly fraught relationship between Anne Boleyn (Esther), and Henry VIII’s chief advisor, Thomas Cromwell (Haman). It was not the Queen who triumphed in Anne’s case, for she wasn’t married to a ‘gentle’ King like Ahasuerus.
A thundering storm of speculation, hearsay, and misinformation about Anne Boleyn’s downfall has rolled about her empty throne since the brief, bloody days that marked the end of her life. Henry VIII’s frenzied efforts to wipe all memory of his wife from earth were, mercifully, only partly successful. What we are left with, however, is a body of evidence reminiscent of partial, damaged fragments of a once complete set of tapestries. Many fine efforts have been made in the past to meddle in Anne’s cause and make sense of these often incomplete, and at times embellished, sources. Efforts that have resulted in a kaleidoscope of conflicting theories as to why Anne Boleyn fell.
This exceptional, scholarly study of Anne Boleyn’s final year forensically and fearlessly challenges many of the conclusions that have been previously made. No footnote has been left unchecked, and no source has been left unscrutinised. By removing the many patches of misinformation, and by washing clean the accumulation of myth, the true horror of Anne’s downfall is presented to us in the most lucid and compelling account to date. We will never be able to recover the full tapestry of Anne Boleyn’s life, but Natalie Grueninger has presented us with what is undoubtedly the most cogent and vivid picture of why her life was taken. It is an extraordinary achievement, and it does Anne justice.
[From book foreword]