Henry and Me By Olivia Hayfield

A recent review of Wife After Wife, my modern retelling of the story of Henry VIII, said, “I hate how all these wonderful women were able to forgive Harry’s behaviour. But I hate even more that I felt myself falling for his character and succumbing to his charms.” Another said, “Eventually I did feel sorry for old Harry and started to see him as a victim of his desires and addictions.”

Reviews like this are my absolute favourites – the ones where readers set off determined to loathe Harry Rose (my reincarnation of Henry VIII) but can’t help falling for him. And the reason I love these so much is because this is exactly what happened to me, as I delved deeper into Henry’s character for my research. Well, I didn’t fall for him, exactly – let’s just say I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, which came as a surprise. I found myself empathising, feeling sorry for him – at least, for the younger Henry, if not the older one.

My goal, when I started writing this book, was to give Henry VIII his come-uppance. I would reincarnate him, pitch him against modern-day versions of his wives, and bring that man down. I couldn’t wait! But, of course, nobody is two-dimensional, and everyone deserves a defence and a chance to explain, so I read widely – everything from respected academics to popular blogs and historical fiction.

I was aware, as I began, that Henry VIII’s character arc wasn’t so much an arc as a plunge. From golden prince to ginger tyrant. I knew he twisted facts and logic to suit his goals, that his famous conscience whispered that his marriage to Catherine of Aragon was wrong – the Bible said so, the lack of a male heir said so, it was a message from God. And I assumed, at this early stage of my research, that he didn’t believe his own spin, that it was all driven by lust for the younger model with a womb that wasn’t past its use-by date.

But then, as my research continued, I found myself warming to Henry. Shock, horror. What? He started off so well; there was so much promise. He was well read, a deep thinker; he loved to discuss religion and philosophy, surrounding himself with the greatest minds of the time. He was sporty, handsome, charismatic, loved dancing and music, and he had the knack of putting everyone at ease. Young Henry was pretty irrisistable.

Attributed to Meynnart Wewyck, *Henry VIII*, about 1509. Oil paint on wood panel, housed in its original frame. Denver Art Museum.

So what went wrong? As time passed, the need for a male heir ate away at him. The terrible disappointments of stillborn and miscarried babies, just the one daughter to show for twenty-odd years of marriage. Henry’s father had taken the throne by force, and although Henrys Seventh and Eighth did a thorough job of mopping up the remaining Plantagenets (and trashing Richard III’s memory – I’m rehabilitating him too, in my third book), the memories of the Wars of the Roses, when England was torn by civil war, were still fresh, and Henry was desperate to continue the dynasty and avoid a return to war, worried that the English people wouldn’t accept a mere woman as their ruler (and we all know who proved them wrong on that!). Hence his justification for his divorce. And I came to the conclusion that in fact he did believe his own spin.

It was around the time that Henry married Anne Boleyn, and she too produced a girl, that Henry’s personality seems to have changed. From that engaging, charismatic man into the mean-mouthed, terrifying tyrant with whom we’re more familiar. One theory is that a fall from a horse that rendered him unconscious for two hours caused brain damage. This fall also exacerbated an old leg wound, which ulcerated and caused him pain for the rest of his life. As a result, he was no longer able to participate in many of things he’d always loved, like jousting, dancing, and tennis, and the lack of exercise saw him piling on the weight. In constant pain, no longer able to do the things he loved, his good looks all gone. No wonder he was bad tempered.

But let’s be clear, I’m not an apologist for his more heinous crimes. Nothing, not even “the context of the times” excuse, can justify beheading two wives. The execution of Anne Boleyn, on trumped-up charges of adultery, is surely one of history’s greatest crimes. And as for beheading poor Catherine Howard, on charges of treason after discovering she’d dallied with three other men, two of those before she was married – hypocracy, much? So yes, Henry was bad. Very bad.

But what turned him bad? His absolute power, and his health issues. Now, if we put him in the modern day, what happens? Firstly he could still be powerful, but in Britain there would be constraints on that power. I recreated him as a media mogul, as I decided they are the ones with the power these days. But still not Henry VIII-level power. Secondly, modern healthcare would sort out his bad leg, and because his wives today would be strong, well-informed women, they would keep an eye on his diet and exercise. And so my Harry Rose is a much softer version of Henry VIII, thanks mainly to the women who surround him, beginning with his wife Katie Paragon, and continuing, finally, with his wonderful daughter Eliza, whose own story is retold in my sequel, Sister to Sister.

Before I sign off … I expect many of you are following @KngHnryVIII on Twitter. I asked him for a quote to include in this piece – what better than a word from the man himself? And here it is: “If given the choice between having daughters or being hurled into a nest of dragons, choose dragons.” Oh dear. Poor Henry.

Thank you, Natalie, for the opportunity to discuss how I created the character of Harry Rose, and why it makes me smile when readers try so very hard to hate him … but just can’t.

About the Author

Olivia Hayfield is a British author now based in Auckland, New Zealand. She writes modern-day retellings of famous tales from history. Her first novel, Wife After Wife, was published in 2020 by Penguin Random House in the US, and Hachette in the UK, Australia and New Zealand. The sequel, Sister to Sister, came out in January 2021.