Not ‘Six’: Six Lives: The Story of Henry VIII’s Queens @ National Portrait Gallery, London
Not so much ‘I’m Henry VIII, I am, I am ’, as I am Catarina of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anna Kleve, Katherine Howard and Catherine Parr. Although how they styled themselves at the time followed the fluid spelling of the time and idiosyncrasies of the writer!
Although it’s fashionable to turn Henry VIII into a monster, I wonder if (although not raised to be king) he had really imbibed the lessons of the recent civil war ‘The War of the Roses’, the instability of dynasties, of lingering feelings of being throne usurpers. For him, he felt personally that women couldn’t rule, that a female heir would leave the kingdom and a dynasty vulnerable to the machinations of whoever the female heir’s husband ended up being, to invasion. Therefore, a living male heir was essential. This protective desire and responsibility towards his family inheritance led to him to behave romantically, cruelly, callously and to even set himself up as his own version of the Catholic Church. He was perhaps more Henry II (fighting church, state and wife to do his own thing) than Henry VIII, international diplomatist.
Using the backdrop of a spectacular joust to celebrate the birth of Prince Henry, we see how impressive Henry VIII was, tall and handsome, through his impressive armour. How he sought to create a chivalric court, but also loved being the centre of attention and perhaps competing with his French counterpart. There’s a nice anecdote about how he started to grow a beard until he met with his French rival King, but shaved it off at Katherine of Aragon’s request. Though his desire to impress could be disastrous such as when he broke protocol, and decided to romantically surprise his new wife Anne of Cleves in the disguise of a messenger. Ofcourse she didn’t, and he was disgusted by her rejection of, well, him.
As well as portraits, a stunning range of objects has been assembled from symbols in panels and stained glass to books dedicated to or owned by the very individual Queens. There’s even a copy of a ceiling decorated with familial links to impress Anne of Cleves. To an extent, but perhaps not fully enough, the exhibition attempts to point to links between the Queens — familial ties, names (such as Katherine Parr being named after Catarina of Aragon, Katherine Parr returning the honour by naming her little daughter Mary after Catarina’s daughter) and the awkwardness of being each other’s ladies-in-waiting. Also the jewels as at least two Queens can be seen wearing the same jewels, which being the property of the Crown, were passed down. Jewels could be political — being given and taken away (as happened to Catherine/Katherine of Aragon and Katherine Howard). There are also the jumps as book dedications have to move quickly between Queens and the unexpected survivors — an unread book in Katherine Howard’s initialed booking binding — or a maternal health book dedicated to Katherine Howard which somehow escaped being removed.
The exhibition also considers the influence of different Queens — Jane Seymour who chose to use the IHS broach to show her religious loyalties, Tau crosses linked back to Katherine of Aragon. Katherine of Aragon and Katherine Parr who both exercised power in the King’s absence, their literacy and reading through the books and music they shared (maybe Katherine of Aragon’s portable writing desk), as well as the objects and jewels they commissioned. We can find notes written by Anne Boleyn in a prayer book. There are Henry’s letters — and sad legal depositions for Anne Boleyn and Katherine Parr’s trials. There are the proclamations — the hasty amendment of prince to princess for the birth of Princess Mary, and the winning moment when Prince Edward’s birth is proclaimed to the kingdom. Additionally there are the Queen’s account books — we can see Anne of Cleves spending on amusements as her new husband urgently seeks to remove himself from her presence, or Katherine Howard’s gifts to her step-daughters, Though it has to be said, the writing is incredibly hard to read and some clearer text reproductions alongside would be really helpful (either as part of the physical exhibition or online). There are suggestive letters too — Henry VIII’s stolen letters to Anne Boleyn, and Katherine Howard’s anxious or damning letter to Thomas Culpepper.
Intriguingly we learn about the servants who served one or all the Queens, and were brought in to give evidence as needed about the behaviour of their ladies. As in the case of Lady Rochford, this could lead to death and revilement, so by the end, this had become a precarious position. Not to mention the court and courtiers around them, who could include their own family — and those same officials (and closest family) might end up passing sentence on them. Such as Uncle Norfolk zealously calling for his niece Katherine Howard to be burnt.
Whilst there’s a lot we don’t know, it’s intriguing to learn that Anne’s famous ‘B’ was more a family statement than the actual item she wore day to day. Her own accounts show a preference for jewels which featured ‘AR’ or A entwined with H focusing on her Queenly status. Enjoy a Pompeii-styled pair of panels with Katherine Parr as Juno, whilst Henry VIII’s Jupiter yomps off to reconquer France and save Calais. How the Queens styled themselves is also intriguing, appreciate Katherine Parr’s lavish styling as well as her determined KP added alongside her signature on official documents.
The individual Queen’s motos and badges are fascinating too for what they emphasise, and the exhibition attempts to investigate the queenly backgrounds, family, childhoods and influences. Katherine or Catherine of Aragon followed her impressive sovereign in her own right mother, and at one point ruled in her father’s stead, with her own cipher. Henry and his advisors imagined utilising English naval power to carry Anne of Cleves to his kingdom — instead her court planned a much more sensible land-based route to protect her health. Anne of Cleves and Katherine Howard had the saddest childhoods — Anne uneducated, Katherine neglected and exposed. Both wanted very much to please. Some Paris playing cards illustrate how Anne of Cleves learned card games to entertain her future husband. On the other hand we have Anne Boleyn, exposed to European sophisticated influences such as Queen Claude’s court, and Katherine Parr, creator of her own published works and intellectual arguments.
I enjoyed seeing some of the wider objects — art works were discplayed, similar to ones mentioned in the King’s inventiories. Alongside were saints and classical women influencing the Queens, such as their name saints, Mary Magdalen and venerated Roman wife, Lucretia. Anne Boleyn used Esther to great effect, to represent herself (in tapestry), and to get at her enemies through public preaching.
Though he’s very much in the background, we do get some sense of Henry VIII as a person. We get a sense of how much he valued Jane Seymour, preserving her clothing and commissioning a retrospective Holbein portrait. In addition, she gets to appear in the dynasty embodying Whitehall portrait (very much we’re still here proclaiming!) along with a little dog in her skirts, indicating her fidelity and loyalty. His bemused hurt at discovering Katherine Howard’s behaviour.
Compellingly we start with how we remember the Queens now, from a ‘Six’ costume to the ‘B’ necklace to the merch, and all the books. And that rhyme. However, we don’t stay there. There’s a fascinating German silent movie ‘Anna Boleyn’ which has a prettily smug Jane Seymour capering off with Henry VIII, right infront of Anne Boleyn. It’s very moving and emotional. Though it also makes us reflect on the similar treatment of Catherine of Aragon by Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. Wonderful are the costume designs from The Six Wives of Henry VIII (BBC TV series and movie), though where are they now? No Tudors costumes though! Modern symbolic recreations of the Queens by Hiroshi Sugimoto can also be viewed, alongside Richard Burchett’s panels for the rebuilt Palace of Westminster, taken from Tudor miniatures. Though sadly we can never be quite sure much of the time who we’re looking at — and often the works we see are copies or later recreations of their subjects. For example, Anne Boleyn’s B portrait might have been made by and for her family, or even for her daughter, avoiding the indictments of her Queenly status and illegitimacy. Enjoy the many miniatures though — often separated from their partner image of Henry VIII, or linked to another image for marriage purposes, and the details interpreted really well.
Enjoy seeing real cloth of gold on display too and contrasting it with how it was represented in art!