The marriage of Henry VIII of England and his fourth and final wife, Anne of Cleves, occurred on the 6th of January, 1540. The Queen’s initial introduction to the King might have been unfortunate, had she not been warned ahead of time that the King would arrive in secret as a messenger to her, as a jest. Thus, their first meeting was smooth, and the quiet German woman impressed her husband by unmasking him as her husband, never letting on she had known because someone in her party had let on the trick.
What is known of their first night together is that the King did not consummate the marriage, although within a week, that deed had been done. In a letter to her sister Amalia, Anne suggested the King may have been drunk or otherwise impaired after their wedding, but it is altogether possible he was in the middle of a bout of impotence. Whatever the reason, a later letter to her sister explicitly stated, by February, “There is every hope for a Prince or Princess, should God provide.”
The Queen’s entrance to London was met with much fanfare, and many found the King’s current wife most attractive, although one reporter alluded to the fact she was less fair than might have been anticipated. In a report to the French King, his ambassador wrote: “She is currently very brown, but with time, that may fade. The worst of it is her nose, which grown long and large in comparison to her other features. But this is only obvious from the side, and from the front, she might be considered even pretty. Now, to the Queen’s face, she received multiple compliments on her looks, and the King paid one man “a large sum” after hearing a poem calling her his Lady of the Dusk, where the Lady Jane had been of the dawn. Had he thought about that comment, Henry might have had the man hanged for imagining his death, but he seems to have been in a better mood than he might have been, and thus the poet was rewarded rather than punished.
The Queen of England was united with her eldest stepchild, the Lady Mary Tudor, a year her junior. The meeting seems to have occurred between late February and early March, with Mary claiming illness had prevented her from taking the trip from her home in the country to court. Whatever the reason, the two got along famously, and, having met the elder daughter, the Queen requested the Lady Elizabeth be brought in from her exile to Hertford Castle, which was granted. Now, initial plans had been made for both the King’s daughters to arrive from their respective country houses around early February, but neither had been allowed. It seems Henry’s post-marriage glow had faltered very quickly, but regardless, when the meetings occurred they went quite well.
The King was, by April, seemingly unhappy with his wife, but let on to little publicly, instead travelling to his son’s household, where he introduced Anne to the young Prince of Wales. Edward, being a precocious child, charmed his German stepmother, who in turn impressed the toddler by giving him a toy sword made of birch and silk wrappings, brought with her from Cleves as one of over 200 gifts handed out to her new family. The Ladies Mary and Elizabeth had received assorted books and jewels, and the Lady Margaret Douglas came into possession of a set of 5 rings, each showing a different phase of the moon. The Queen had sufficiently impressed the court with her generosity, even as many acknowledged her home Duchy was not necessarily the richest.
The Queen was rumoured to be pregnant by May, and in June, the King and Queen formally wrote to the other great Kings of Europe, announcing that they expected a child by the end of the year. The court itself had known as early as late April, when the travel back to London was taken slow “for the Queen’s health”. It’s thought that, while at Edward’s household, Anne was checked over by a midwife, who pronounced her pregnant, which was later agreed to by the King’s doctors.
The announcement of a child seems to have coincided with Henry VIII’s decision to finally crown his bride, and in late July, a date of 16th of August was decided on. Meanwhile, the King had begun paying court to another young lady, by the name of Catherine Howard. How the King had decided upon this young woman is not known, but by the start of August, rumours swirled that the King meant to put aside his pregnant wife, and that the coronation would actually be for the Lady Howard. Even as late as the 12th of August, Anne of Cleves was forced to write to her husband from the Tower of London, begging him to either deny the rumours or let her know beforehand, so she might prepare. However, the rumours were obviously false, and on the 16th, Catherine Howard was amongst those who participated in the coronation of the now obviously pregnant Anne of Cleves, who was anointed and was now officially, now and forever, Queen of England.
The King’s mistress was, meanwhile, set the task of entertaining her lover, while the Queen prepared for her confinement, to begin mid-October. A husband in the form of Thomas Culpeper was found, a young man favoured by the King and who was already acquainted with the Lady Howard. The Queen herself attended their wedding in September, promising to act as godmother to any children they might have. By showing favour to her husband’s mistress, Anne showed she was willing to overlook infidelity if the King was discreet, and as a reward, Henry sent agreed that her sister, Amalia, might travel to England and aid her during her confinement, to stay as long as a year after the birth of a son, or six months in the event of a daughter. Granted, part of the agreement meant the last of Anne’s German entourage was to leave with her, but considering at least two had, at this point, married into the English court, it was likely the Queen would have German’s surrounding her for a while yet.
The beginning of the confinement of Anne of Cleves was between the 25th and 28th of October, delayed due to issues with the rooms, quickly rectified. It seems the tapestries picked to cover the walls were either stained or too small for the walls, and it took almost a week for new ones to be picked out and hanged. However, it was still likely the Queen would have at least a month until she went into labour, or at least that was the impression of the court. However, on the 5th of November, the Queen of England began her labour, and by midnight that night, a son was born, in the form of Henry Tudor, Duke of York. There had been talk of naming the child William, but the King ultimately chose vanity, and his second son was named after himself. Amalia of Cleves would arrive, escorted by her brother, two days after the birth, and the two acted as godparents to their nephew, before the Duke of Cleves was called back to Cleves.
To fulfill his side of the alliance with Cleves, the King of England sent a small force of troops as the Duke of Cleves began his war to hold Guelders. In return, the King of England received papers, enforcing that, while Sybille of Cleves had renounced her claimed to the Duchies of Jülich-Cleves-Berg, Anne had not, and thus any sons they had might inherit the titles and lands William held, should he die without children.
The Duke of York is sent away to Hatfield as the year begins in earnest, and as the Queen of England returns to court, she finds herself adjusting more easily to the English Court. Her English is improving, and while she is not considered the most beautiful woman at court, her manner is repeatedly referred to as Queenly. Even the Ambassador to the Holy Roman Emperor is impressed, despite his opposition to the union, claiming Anne of Cleves might come from a Lutheran family, but she seems content to pray as her husband wishes and “act as a good woman might.”. Granted, the Queen is not from a Lutheran family, and she does have some influence behind the scenes, but that face value is exactly what Anne wants to betray. Standing beside Henry VIII of England, Anne of Cleves has one goal: total acceptance and total respect. Thus, she begins moves to increase her influence in England.
The birth of Henry Tudor, Duke of York in November of 1540 meant the Kingdom had it’s spare, and with that security, the Queen’s sister, with a letter of permission from her brother, was formally adopted into Anne’s entourage indefinitely, with the hope that she’d find a husband amongst the great men of England, if a husband could not be found amongst Cleves’ allies. And with that, the Queen and her sister suddenly became the most popular women in court, regardless of their positions.
The King of England and his Queen would, in March, begin a progress, moving North to York, where plans were discussed for the King of Scotland to meet his uncle. The two Kings now had sons, and as part of discussions, Henry VIII of England would discuss either a betrothal between his younger daughter Elizabeth to the Duke of Rothesay or, if more suited, the Duke of Longueville, the King of Scotland’s stepson and a French Duke. Such a marriage would act as a double alliance, pulling both Scotland and France into England’s orbit of influence and potentially isolating the Hapsburgs further than they already were, although even now, Henry was in discussions for a match between the Prince of Wales and the Infanta Juana of Spain, Archduchess of Austria.
The King and Queen set up shop in York, where the population were elated just to see their King again, the last royal visit of any meaningful kind being in 1487. Anne of Cleves would show remarkable tact during this time, although her shine was somewhat stolen by the Mistress Culpeper, who jumped from her horse to pull a young child out of a carriage’s way, thereby earning her a folk hero’s legacy amongst the people of York. To reward her for her bravery (and the fact she was currently his mistress), the King granted her and her husband lands in York, and in May, the Culpepers were titled Baron and Baroness Culpeper of Sleaford, an estate formerly owned by the Baron Hussey of Sleaford. The new Baron Culpeper would, later that month, begin to buy lands surrounding the estate, owned by the Baron Clinton.
The birth of the Duke of Ross to the King of Scotland gave the King of England the perfect excuse to again invite his nephew to York, pressing that he expects a favourable answer sooner rather than later. Of course, James VI of Scotland has no intentions of leaving Scotland to visit his uncle, and by late April, it’s obvious that the King of Scotland has no intention of meeting the King of England. Granted, he has the excuse that his wife is recovering from her recent labour, and when both his sons die within hours of each other, he simply says no. Not necessarily something great for Anglo/Scottish relations, but the man did just lose two children. Saddened by the news, the Queen of England sends her step-nephew a note of condolences, with a similar but personalized note for his Queen.
However, while in York, Anne of Cleves is privy to her own news: she’s pregnant a second time. Now, this has come very soon after the first pregnancy, and the King’s doctor warns them that such a quick turnover is not healthy for a mother. The King, however, is elated, and as they begin their journey South, he privately lets several confidantes know that “a Duke of Somerset may be arriving soon.”. Anne, meanwhile, is taking things slowly, forcing her ladies to move a few days behind her husband. Granted, this is at the behest of Henry VIII, who fears quick, bumpy travel will trigger a miscarriage. Not amongst her ladies, however, is the Baroness Culpeper, who stays with the King’s party, although no one is willing to say why. Yes, once again, as Henry is able to leave his wife’s bed, and slip into the sheets with the lovely Catherine. However, she does demand some propriety, and officially, she claims her husband was unable to leave her behind. It’s all a web of half-truths and lies, but that’s propaganda.
Now to the Queen’s sister, Amalia of Cleves. Considered “very German” by the English, the Princess of Cleves, as her title was given in several documents, was rather stiff and unyielding to the more lax English manners. Granted, she could relax, and stories of her dancing in the gardens with her sister and her step-niece paint a charming picture, but to those she didn’t consider family, she did struggle with. This is probably because she couldn’t speak English very well, and while she was fluent in French, she talked so little it took months before people knew. One man, however, who continued to try and talk, was the Prince of Wales’ uncle, Thomas Seymour. The flirtations of the English courtier slowly begin to sink in to Amalia, and by August, the Queen receives a tip that, should this continue, her reputation might suffer. Worried, she talks to her husband, who send Thomas up to the Netherlands as England’s representation. Amalia is somewhat upset, but as the year progresses, she becomes more invested in her sister’s pregnancy, which seems harder than the first.
The birth of the Duke of Somerset in late November, most likely more than a month early, meant that, yet again, the Queen of England had barely settled into her confinement before giving birth. This son, named Edmund, was shortly given the title of Duke of Somerset, and soon after removed from the court to join his brothers in the nursery, where the Prince of Wales and Duke of York had been brought so that they might be at court for Christmas. The King’s eldest daughter, Mary Tudor, also joined the court, although Elizabeth was not in attendance. The King claimed he did not want his daughter in attendance due to her not having fully recovered from a flu, although it’s likely he had taken against her again, in a way unbecoming of the royal family.
As the year came to a close, England sent more troops and money to the Duke of Cleves, under the Earl of Surrey, with the explicit idea that, soon enough, France would join them and they would have the Emperor on his knees. As part of this, negotiations reopened for Mary and Elizabeth Tudor to marry into the French royal house, as a way to block against them pulling out easily. Thus, the match between the Duke of Longueville is brought back up. But negotiations halt when France’s ally, Scotland, attacks England.
The second pregnancy Anne of Cleves was much more taxing then the first, and the Ambassador to Cleves (her sister, Amalia) wrote to the Duke that she needs rest, at least a year break until her next pregnancy. Granted, she’s already more than proven herself as Henry’s consort, so Amalia of Cleves reckons the King might “wait until she is fat and healthy before trying for another child”.
The Queen’s health is such a concern that, when discussion when he might bring his wife back to his bed, the King learns the doctors think that she should wait at least 6 months. And when he sees her again, he understands why. The tall woman, considered a little thin and a little too dark for true beauty, is even thinner, but very pale. Indeed, she’d been a little frailer this pregnancy, but seeing someone so young look so close to death scares even the naturally selfish Henry VIII, who agrees to wait. He, instead, enjoys a quick reunion with his mistress, leaves the court to hear reports his nephew is preparing for war.
The death of Margaret Tudor, Queen Dowager of Scotland was the lifting of James V of Scotland’s last barrier and, as the year began, he took to battle, taking to the field against English troops. With his Queen heavily pregnant with his heir, James V of Scotland begins a campaign against England, and against Henry VIII of England. The King, thus, takes to the field, and by April, they’re thick at war. And as Regent of England, the King names his bride, still recovering her health, but of a sharp enough mind that he believes she’ll keep things running smoothly.
In this new position, the Queen does not disappoint. Arriving the day after she is officially named Regent in a gown of Tudor green and wearing jewels to match, she walks hand in hand with the Prince of Wales, who had been brought to court for effect. Behind her, the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth hold the Dukes of York and Somerset, and behind them, Margaret Douglas, brother to the King of Scots, wears her uncle’s colours, at pace with the Princess Amalia, representing her brother as ambassador still. Behind her, the Prince of Wales’ uncles end the family trail. It’s an impressive display of unity that sufficiently displays that Anne is not here to flutter around and do nothing.
On the battle field, Henry finds vigour that he has not had in years, and reports claim the best of him: he’s losing weight, taking ground and generally winning the war. He even finds time to write to his wife himself, an increasingly rare act for a man who doesn’t particularly like writing letters. However, he explains they’re winning the war, and that he is incredibly proud of what he is hearing of her. He even leaves specific messages for his children, asking Mary to send him new shirts, and praising Elizabeth for a poem she sent with the last batch of messages to him. It’s a rare display of paternal love, and the Queen ensures the weight of this is impressed on all her children. However, amongst the sentimentalities, there’s still a little bitterness, and he manages to mention the Baroness Culpeper no less than three times, causing mild fluttering around the court, as many see this as him openly stating she’s his mistress. Granted, she herself doesn’t see it that way, and instead claims that she worries others in the court envy her friendship with the King. It’s a bold strategy, but it works well enough to that the various ambassadors don’t quite know what to tell their employers, and one man actually apologises to the Lady Catherine, claiming to having been misled.
In Cleves, negotiations surround the Duke’s marriage to the Princess of Navarre, Jeanne d’Albret, stall completely, after France neglects to send any aid or official support to their ally, which angers the Duke . He already has an ally in England, and considering that they’re more loyal than the French, he doesn’t understand why he should marry the Princess, even if she is an heiress. Her crown is in the hands of the Spanish, and the French refuse to even name a time when she’ll arrive to act as his consort. Thus, instead, he breaks of negotiations and looks elsewhere, writing to his youngest sister that he might be interested in the King of England’s daughter, or his niece, if the dowry is right.
The King of England’s quick return to court came as July flowed into August, and most likely came because of the question of a marriage between his brother-in-law and either his daughter or his niece. His immediate reaction was to refuse the Duke the hand of Mary Tudor, writing: “I cannot hand her to you, you being her uncle.”. But, apparently, Margaret Douglas was fair game and he gave permission of negotiations to begin, although he warned that he would expect the final say. With that, he travelled back to the battle field.
As he left, the Queen soon realised he had left her a surprise. It seems he had missed her bed as much as the Lady Catherine, and shortly by late September, the Queen began having suspicions that she might be with child again. However, before much could come of it, in November, she bled heavily, most likely miscarrying, although it’s possible another illness might have caused it. The court failed to believe their Queen was pregnant, particularly since many thought Henry had not even taken to bed with her this time. It was rumoured she had “cancer of the belly”, which had left her body after prayer. Whatever the reason was, Anne wasn’t pregnant anymore. She wrote to her husband explaining that she was not and could not be pregnant, as he ended the short war with his nephew.
That same nephew, back on the battlefield, has received some good, but not great news. His Queen, Marie of Guise, has given birth to a healthy child, but that child is a girl, named Mary after her mother. The child is now heir to the Scottish Throne, and almost ends up it’s Queen. The King of Scots, upon receiving the news that his daughter was born, was struggling between life and death, and most dramatically declared: “It came with a lass, it’ll end with a lass”. However, his fever broke soon afterwards, and by late December, he was alive, although broken in spirit and ready to treat with his English uncle. The two agreed to meet in January of the next year, once the King of Scotland was healthy enough to travel.
The long awaited meeting between Henry VIII of England and James V of Scotland was, in all forms, somewhat of a disaster. Firstly, both Kings were still tired from war, although Henry was described as positively energetic compared to the still sickly James. Secondly, Henry had asked the King of Scots to bring his wife, so Marie of Guise could meet Anne of Cleves. But, having just left her confinement, Marie was able to send word that she was not well enough to make the journey, and thus when Queen Anne arrived at York (Henry’s chosen meeting place), she had no one to entertain, and thus lacked an actual role throughout the events. Henry, it must be said, was enthusiastic to a point of insanity. Healthier than he’d been in years, the King actually made a scene by pulling his wife from her horse into an embrace, an unexpected gesture between a couple known more for strong respect then love.
Anne, meanwhile, acted the perfect hostess, and had brought many of her ladies, excluding the Lady Culpeper, who was currently expecting her first child, and thus had been granted permission to stay away from the court. The child wasn’t the Kings, for the timeline didn’t match, but the Baroness wasn’t worried about that. Having seen the King’s patterns, she had been advised to try and hide from her royal lover while pregnant, to prevent his interest waning. Instead, she wrote him love letters, few that were responded to, but those that were expressed desire for her that matched what she wrote. The child born, Elizabeth Culpeper, named in honour of her cousin, the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, had godparents not in the King and Queen, but rather in the Prince of Wales and the Lady Elizabeth. Some have taken this to mean the King thought the Baroness’ daughter was his own, and thus unseemly to be his godchild, but it’s likely the Baron Culpeper himself, a close friend of the King’s and shortly to be assigned the task of running the Prince of Wales’ household, suggested the honour for the 6 year old and his 10 year old sister, as a way of leading them into adulthood.
The meeting with the King of Scots ended favourably for England, and the little Princess Mary, as nominal heir, was made the betrothed of the Prince of Wales, although the King of Scots expressed interest in transferring that betrothal to either the Duke of York or Somerset, to ensure Scotland’s independence. Thus, Henry had gotten his wish with his nephew, and thus sent him back to Edinburgh.
Back at court, Henry faced the ongoing negotiations to send either his daughter or niece to Cleves, and sensing the growing impatience of the Ambassador, who happened to be his sister-in-law, he allowed the negotiations to progress, making it clear the Duke could have the Lady Margaret Douglas easily. Thus, in June, the Lady Douglas became the Duchess of Jülich-Cleves-Berg, while her cousin, the Lady Mary, watched another potential husband pass her by. Margaret would arrive in Düsseldorf, clad in the best England could afford, and immediately find herself in the most uncomfortable position of her life. The Duke had expected the Lady Mary, the letters being muddled, and with the Lady Margaret his new bride, he was much less kind then he might have been. Still at war against the Holy Roman Emperor, he immediately began discussions about divorcing his wife.
In England, the King asked that his children join him once again at court. Granted, the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth had stayed in the court since being called by their stepmother, but the Prince of Wales and his German brothers had been sent back to the country, for their health. However, the King wanted to see his sons, and was not disappointed. The Prince of Wales was, as in all things, transcendent in his father’s eyes. A pretty boy, he was fair and healthy. The Dukes of York and Somerset, however, were both different, not in health, but in temperament. Prince Henry was quiet and retiring in all company but his brother’s, and Prince Edmund, for those who’s memories stretched long enough, was a reminder of his father as a child, boisterous and charming. The young children were granted honours, knighted, and the King then sent them back to the country.
The Princess Amalia was pregnant when, in September, she married the Lord Thomas Seymour. The King, Queen and everyone at court had no idea, but given that, by the end of the year, she was obviously at least 6 months into her pregnancy, the scandal remained. The flirtation had obviously taken a more serious bent towards the end of the last year, and now, the Queen’s sister and Ambassador to Cleves would marry the Lord Thomas, risen to the title Earl of Essex by the King at his wife’s request, although she had originally envisioned a Dukedom for her sister’s husband. But an Earl was a good starting point, and as Anne would write to her sister in Saxony, Amalia might have married in as a Baron, or as the son of a knight, so an Earl was a great deal better.
The return of the Baroness Culpeper in September meant the affair resumed, with more vigour than previously. The King was, by his standards, positively thin, and war had made feel like a man again. Granted, this didn’t translate to his wife, who he may have considered too delicate, after her possible miscarriage the previous year. Whatever the reason, this was the first year Anne had gone through in England without a pregnancy, and she herself seemed relieved.
In Scotland, the King of Scots took his defeat as well as can be expected. By the end of the year, his wife was pregnant with what he hoped was a son, he’d having gained enough strength not only to impregnate her, but at least one other mistress. He planned a new attack on England, to bring Henry VIII of England to his knees. Meanwhile, Marie of Guise learns to accept her husband might be driven by revenge, at least a little bit, and focuses her attention on staying healthy, for the baby.
The birth of Anne Seymour, the daughter to the Earl of Essex, in February rather than the projected May/June date, meant the court had to pretend she was a miracle child, born extremely premature rather than maybe a month early, if rumours are to be believed. Whatever the conception date, the little Earl’s daughter was healthy, pretty, and Amalia of Cleves seems to have breastfed her herself, possibly claiming such a weak baby needed her milk, if she continued with the charade the baby was over three months early. Regardless, Amalia’s time as the Ambassador of Cleves was over, and in March, a man by the name of William of Cleves, the grandson of Philip of Cleves, Lord of Ravenstein, and a man of little renown but high intelligence. He quickly settled into the English Court and soon became a fast member of the Queen’s close friends.
The marriage between Margaret Douglas and the Duke of Cleves had only been consummated once by the midpoint of the year, but soon after July, the Duke had a reason to want Margaret: Henry VIII of England’s Succession had been put into law, and for now, Margaret was on it. Now, not directly in name, but after his own children “first legitimate, then those not”, came “heirs to the Princess Margaret” and then “heirs to the Princess Mary”. Granted, some warned William that some considered the new Duchess not to be legitimate, but regardless, rumours reached his ears that the Princes of England were ill (false), the Lady Mary was infertile (false), the Lady Elizabeth was to be excluded from the succession in a revision in the works (false) and that the King planned to exclude James V of Scotland from the succession due to his war against him (yet another false rumour). Now, the reason Margaret Douglas was left in the succession, at the time, is simple: Henry wanted her to stay as Duchess of Cleves, and knew that, should she be removed, it was likely William, already unhappy with his wife, might cast her aside, particularly as the Hapsburgs floated a bride in the form of Maria of Austria in front of his face. Thus, if a child was born from this union, it was as good as sealed. And Margaret did her part, announcing a pregnancy by August.
The birth of James V of Scotland’s new Duke of Rothesay, also named James Stewart, after his father. The new Prince was sickly, and within a week, he was dead. The death of yet another son seems to have given the King of Scots at least a pause for thought, and as he watched his daughter grow through infancy, he worried for his dynasty’s future. Thus, the King of Scots would call the Earl of Lennox, a cousin, to discuss the potential for him to marry, which he did, to the Lady Mary Douglas, the younger illegitimate sister to the Duchess of Cleves. A low match, with it came with the idea that, should the Earl have a son, that son might marry the Princess Mary. Granted, this idea cut out the Lord Hamilton, along with a host of other claimants, but ensured a continuation of the Stewart name, which seems to have been James’ grand plan. The promotion of the Earl of Lennox also meant the King of Scots looked to be at least appreciating the treaty with England, by promoting a England-friendly Scottish noble. The match of Lady Janet also carried some potential for massive gains, as a potential heir to the Earl of Angus, even if she might be illegitimate. Granted, the Earl had recently celebrated the birth of a son, James Douglas, but that child was considered unlikely to live, and the Earl seemed extremely worried for the future of his progeny.
The war for Guelders was not going well for the Duke of Cleves when, in September, he was forced to sign over his rights to the Duchy, along with declaring his allegiance to the Holy Roman Emperor. Stricken by grief, the Duke soon turned to his bed, and found at least some comfort in his English wife, who held the future of his dynasty in her womb. The war had been lost when the Earl of Surrey had left for England, taking with him a decent chunk of the troops England had sent, and all money they’d brought. The Duke’s intense feelings of loss was compounded by the death of his mother, and when they buried her in October, he found his feelings growingly increasingly volatile.
The affair between Henry VIII of England and Catherine Culpeper seems to have ended around November, with the King instead changing his affections to the widow of the Lord Latimer. The Baroness Culpeper would remain at court, but her fabulous ascendancy was over, and even she could see it. Now, the reason why Henry had grown tired of his “pretty little woman” is unclear, seeing as she was not pregnant, didn’t change her demeanour and, to many, was maturing into a different kind of beauty. But, perhaps, as Henry again returned to his routine of food and leisure, the high energy delights of a woman only now entering her twenties lacked the appeal of an experience, gentle-minded widow, or even his steady, sweet-tongued wife, who was also considered to be growing in beauty by many. Regardless of his reasons, the Lady Latimer would take Catherine Culpeper’s place in his bed for only a short time, and by the end of the year, she’d married Thomas Stanley, 2nd Baron Monteagle, widower to Mary Brandon, and a man in need of a competent wife and mother for his children. The Baron would not accept his wife’s position as mistress to the King, and so, the King seems to have ended the year without a steady mistress, although if he turned to his wife’s comfort’s they did not produce any new pregnancies. Instead, Anne’s main mode of interest was her sister and the Lady Anne Seymour, standing in as Godmother for her niece, sending silks and expensive toys for her, and generally acting motherly. She had her own children, and cared for them well, but as she wrote in a letter to her sister in Saxony: “You can spoil the children of others, but never your own. For they must deal with a spoilt child, but you must not.” A selfish mode of thinking, but considering Amalia spent equal amounts on her nephews, the two seem to have come to an arrangement surrounding their children, for better or worse.
Few things are more depressing than a good man gone to waste, and thus, it must be said many felt depressed at the sight of their King. After reaping the benefits of thinning out at war, he was now larger than ever, and as his children grew, so did his waistline. Granted, the King of England cut an impressive figure still, but his health was gradually disintegrating, and all knew that, as time pushed on, he was most likely not long for this world. However, Henry VIII of England wasn’t dead yet, and to prove it to the world, he took, for the first time, his own maistresse-en-titre, although not under that title. The woman in question, Anne Clopton, sister to English Gentleman William Clopton, was well-educated, widowed young to a well-to-do man of Sledwick, leaving her with no children but a considerable fortune of her own, allowing her to travel and join the royal court. The young woman would, shortly, become the focus of the King and, in February, she was afforded an official position in the Queen’s service. It’s not known who Anne Clopton’s first husband was, as she seems to have reverted to “Mistress Clopton” upon her arrival to court, and it’s been suggested that she had never actually been married, but acted as the mistress of a man of means, or had lived with a family with the understanding that she would marry the eldest son. Whatever her past, her current situation was unheard of in England, and with that came a whole host of obstacles. Henry VIII of England seems to have chosen her for two reasons, one to do with her, and one to do with himself. Firstly, she was beautiful, seemingly intelligent, and young enough to make him forget his own advancing age. Secondly, and more importantly, Henry does not seemed to have loved his wife, and after five years, two love affairs and various dalliances, he seems to have craved that same “proper” romantic love he’d had with previous wives, and to be able to bear that publicly. Thus, he’d found a woman he was attracted to and who might be subservient, given her a position she could never truly leave without disgrace, and begun to play house. His wife, meanwhile, kept her thoughts private, and was all the happier for it.
In Cleves, the birth of a son to the Duke and Duchess was an exciting prospect, and may have been just the thing to bring the Duke back out of his depression, which may have killed him. In the celebrations for the young Prince John, the Duke William got very, very drunk, as a new father might do. And thus, and it’s unsure exactly how this problem came about, he got very mad at someone, fought with them, and was soundly hit in the head. For most, this might have ended in a headache, but for him, it was a coma, followed by death. Now, the man who killed his liege was never caught, but the issue remained: Cleves was at war, and now they had a Duke that was barely a month old. The Dowager Duchess, Margaret Douglas, took no time whatsoever, to begin her Regency. Sending word to the troops, she begun negotiations so secede Guelders to the Holy Roman Emperor, in a favourable treaty, and took for her advisor Gerhard of Jülich-Berg, a cousin of her dead husband. She received condolences from her family in England, and then the marriage proposals began rolling for. For now, she wasn’t the impoverished, possibly illegitimate niece of the King of England, but an independently wealthy woman of nobility, and the mother to a highly powerful German Duke.
The birth of a second Princess of Scots was a disappointment to the James V of Scotland, as was his wife’s struggle to bounce back after yet another difficult birth. Marie of Guise was now 30, and to her husband, time was fast running out for them to have a son. Two daughters was fine for now, but the King was worried, particularly with the looming shadow of ambassadors pointing out their lieges had sons just the right age for the Princess Mary. Granted, he wasn’t fully worried about his line yet, the Queen was still plenty young enough for more children, and they had had three sons so far, they just hadn’t necessarily lived. But it bothered him that he, a virtuous Prince of the Catholic Church, had only daughters when, over in England, the lecherous old Henry VIIII of England had three sons of his own.
That same King was, at that same time, enjoying his mistress, enjoying his sons and generally enjoying life. The Queen could not say the same, however. She seems to have either begun eating as a way to deal with stress, whichever direction it was coming from, or perhaps she had just picked up Henry’s bad habits. Regardless, Anne of Cleves put on a tremendous amount of weight towards the years end, which led to reports she was again pregnant, although she assured her sister in Saxony: “that is impossible, for many reasons, and as it is impossible, I must say I am getting very fat.”. Indeed, Anne of Cleves seems to have walked around the court assuring people she was not pregnant, when a pregnancy might have pulled her husband back from his mistress. It might have been that she simply did not want her husband for herself, she and Henry were not romantically as close as he had been with any of his other wives, and at this point, she may have decided to allow him to play with other women and go on with her life. She even stayed close with his other, former, mistresses. The Lady Stanley rejoined her retinue towards the end of the year, to replace the Baroness Culpeper, who was moving to the country in preparation for her second pregnancy. Her sister also rejoined her entourage, although as her own person as the Countess of Essex, and the Lady Anne joined her cousins, the Dukes of York and Somerset, in the royal nursery. Also amongst the ladies who accompanied the Queen of England were the Ladies Mary and Elizabeth Tudor. Mary had been part of Anne’s court for some time, but in September, shortly after her birthday, Elizabeth had joined them. Queen Anne had wanted a higher modicum of control over her stepdaughter’s education, shying away from the hard intellectual bend she had been taking and instead pushing for a more rounded, lighter style of education, fit for a future consort. It was a move in direct contradiction to the education Elizabeth had been receiving, and the education even many young girls in the nobility were receiving, but Anne was fast on her course: Elizabeth didn’t need to be educated like a Prince, but a Princess, fit to rule beside her future husband. Mary, meanwhile, wondered why she bothered: if the elder was unmarried, it was likely the younger would be to.
