The Creation of Anne Boleyn — Guest post & Giveaway!

To celebrate the upcoming release (April 9, 2013) of Susan Bordo’s The Creation of Anne Boleyn: A New Look at England’s Most Notorious Queen, I will be giving away five copies!  I am also very excited to share with you this blog-post written by Susan and based on material from the book.

Conditions of Entry

For your chance to win a copy of The Creation of Anne Boleyn you must be subscribed to On the Tudor Trail’s newsletter (if you are not already, sign up on our homepage).

Then simply leave a comment after Susan’s guest post, ‘At the Scaffold’, between now and April 14, 2013.

Thanks to the generosity of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in New York, this giveaway is open worldwide!

Don’t forget to leave your name and a contact email.

Good luck!

At the Scaffold by Susan Bordo

Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn in ‘The Tudors’

Despite her proclaimed readiness to die, until very near the end Anne still harbored the belief that Henry might pardon her. It was not an unreasonable expectation.  Not only had no British queen up until then been executed, but the last-minute rescue of the condemned queen was a centerpiece of the romance of chivalry, which was still being avidly consumed at court via Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur.  In the Arthurian legend, Guinevere is condemned to death twice for treason (the second time for adultery with Lancelot) and both times is saved from the stake by Lancelot—with King Arthur’s blessings.  Arthur had, in fact, suspected the queen’s infidelity for years, but because of his love for her and for Lancelot, had kept his suspicions a secret.  When Modred and Aggravane, plotting their own coup d’etat, told the King about it, he had no choice but to condemn his queen, while privately hoping she would be rescued.

It was a romantic fantasy—but one which Henry and Anne had grown up with, and which no doubt shaped their ideas about love.  The Arthurian romance, even today, has the power to move us.  And in 1536, many of the outward trappings and habits of courtly love still existed.  Henry was himself an adroit and seductively tender courtier, who at the beginning of his courtship of Anne had written seventeen letters in which he pledged himself her “servant” and swore his constancy. The pledges may (or may not) have been made manipulatively, but his infatuation was real and the gestures were convincing. Why wouldn’t Anne, who Henry had in fact been honored like Guinevere for six years, cherish the hope that she, too, would be rescued from death?

Henry had no such plans in mind, however. As Anne prepared for her death, Henry was spending much of his time at Chelsea, visiting Jane Seymour and making plans for their wedding.  Chapuys describes the king as showing “extravagant joy” at Anne’s arrest.  Convinced (or making a great show for posterity) that Anne was an “accursed whore” who had slept with hundreds of men, he was “very impatient” and wishing to have the thing done with “already.”  Ironically, Anne, on her part, felt the same way. Expecting to die on the 18th, she took the sacrament at 2 a.m., having prepared her soul for many hours.  By now all who were in close contact with her must have been convinced of her innocence, whatever their politics. She had insisted that Kingston be present when she took confession, so her assertion of innocence of the charges would be public record. Even her old enemy Chapuys was impressed by the fact that Anne, before and after receiving the Sacrament, affirmed to those who had charge of her “on damnation of her soul, that she had never offended with her body against the King.”  In the 16th century, to speak anything other than the truth at such a time would be to invite the utter condemnation of God. Anne had nothing to gain and her salvation to lose by lying.

She was prepared to die.  Yet, cruelly, the execution was delayed twice, once in order to clear the Tower of possible sympathetic observers, the second time because the executioner had been delayed. The first delay dismayed Anne, who thought that at the newly appointed hour she would already “be dead and past my pain.”  Kingston, who seems to have been an absurdly literal man, took her to be referring to the physical pain of the execution itself, and reassured her that “there would be no pain, it was so subtle.” Anne replied with her most famous line: “I have heard say the executioner is very good, and I have a little neck.”  And then, according to Kingston, “she put her hand around [her neck], laughing heartily.”  Kingston flat-footedly interpreted this to mean that Anne had “much joy and pleasure in death.”  He apparently did not “get” Anne’s irony, or the fact that at this point, she was probably becoming a bit unhinged.  At the news of the second delay, she was distraught.  But “It was not that she desired death,” as she told Kingston (or perhaps one of the ladies, who then told him) “but she had thought herself prepared to die, and feared that the delay would weaken her resolve. “  So much for Kingston’s theory that Anne felt “joy and pleasure” at the prospect of death.

What she may have felt was something closer to what James Hillman describes as the state of mind that often precedes an attempt at suicide:  a desperate desire to shed an old self whose suffering had become unbearable, and thus be “reborn” in the act of dying.  This imagined rebirth, for Hillman, has nothing to do with belief in reincarnation, or even in heaven, but the perception, ironically, that the soul cannot survive under existing conditions. What Anne had been through was certainly enough to shatter any hold her previous life may have exerted on her.  She had been discarded by the man who had pursued her for six years, fathered her daughter, and seemingly adored her for much of their time together.  The person she was closest to in the world—her brother George—had been executed on the most hideous and shameful of charges.   The rest of her family, as far as we can tell, had either abandoned her or—as Anne believed of her mother–was awash with despair and grief over what was happening.  Still recovering from a miscarriage, her body and mind undoubtedly assaulted by hormonal changes and unstable moods, she had been sent to prison on absurd, concocted charges, and “cared for” there by women who were hostile spies.  She knew she would never see her daughter Elizabeth again, and—unlike the fictional Anne of Anne of the Thousand Days, who predicts that “Elizabeth will be queen!”—had no hope, after Cranmer’s visit, that her child would ever be anything more than she had seen Mary reduced to: a bastardized ex-princess forced to bow down to any children the new wife might produce for Henry.  She had been given reason to hope that she would be allowed to live, only to have those hopes crushed at her sentencing. In a sense, she had already been through dozens of dyings.   Nothing was left but the withered skin of her old life, which she was ready to shed.

As she mounted the scaffold, wearing a role of dark damask (black in some reports, grey in others) trimmed with white fur, with a red kirtle (petticoat) underneath—red being the liturgical color of Catholic martyrdom—political and national affiliations continued, as they had through her reign and would for centuries to come–to shape the descriptions of her appearance and behavior. To an author of the Spanish Chronicle, she exhibited “a devilish spirit.” A Portugese witness who had snuck in despite the ban on “strangers”, wrote that “never had she looked so beautiful.” An imperialist observer described her as “feeble and stupefied” (which would be understandable, and not incompatible with her looking beautiful as well.)  Wriothesley says she showed “a goodly smiling countenance.”  French de Carles commented on the beauty of her complexion, pure and clear as though cleansed by all the suffering.  For all, the spectacle of a queen, wearing the white ermine of her role, mounting the stairs to the scaffold, was unnerving.

Unlike her trial speech and her “last letter,” Anne’s remarks on the scaffold made the more conventional bows to the goodness and mercy of the King—in this highly public context, it was virtually required, if only to prevent any retribution against surviving relatives—and asked the people to pray for her.  She did not admit to guilt for the offenses with which she was charged or accuse the judges of malice, but did make reference to the “cruel law of the land by which I die.” By now, the four young ladies who had accompanied her to the scaffold (clearly not the hostile spies that had lived with her in the Tower, but others, more intimate with her, who she had been allowed to have with her in these last moments) were weeping.  Anne, having helped them take off her robe—an act that in itself must have demanded great composure and courage—“appeared dazed” as he kneeled down, modestly covering her feet with her dress, and asked the executioner to remove her coif, lest it interfere with his stroke.  The executioner realized that she was afraid of the pain of an impeded blow; she kept looking around her, her hand on her coif, anticipating the moment.   Clearly “distressed” at the task he was to perform, he told her that he would wait until she gave the signal.  “With a fervent spirit” she began to pray, and the Portuguese contingent, unable to bear it, huddled together and knelt down against the scaffold, wailing loudly.

Anne gave the signal.  But either the executioner or someone else in charge had devised a scheme to distract Anne at the last moment, so the fatal blow would come when she wasn’t expecting it; he turned toward the scaffold steps and called for the sword, and when Anne blindly turned her head in that direction, he brought the sword down from the other side and swiftly “divided her neck at a blow.”   As these things went—others had died only after multiple clumsy hackings—it was an easy death: if the naturalist Lewis Thomas has it right, it was far easier than her weeks of suffering in the Tower:  “Pain, “ he writes, is useful for avoidance, for getting away when there’s time to get away, but when it is end game, and no way back, pain is likely to be turned off, and the mechanisms for this are wonderfully precise and quick.  If I had to design an ecosystem in which creatures had to live off each other and in which dying was an indispensible part of living, I could not think of a better way to manage.”   He quotes Montaigne, who nearly died in a riding accident and later described the “letting go” that he experienced at what could have easily been the very end:

“It was an idea that was only floating on the surface of my soul, as delicate and feeble as all the rest, but in truth not only free from distress but mingled with that sweet feeling that people have who have let themselves slide into sleep. I believe this is the same state in which people find themselves whom we see fainting in the agony of death, and maintain that we pity them without cause…If you know not how to die, never trouble yourself; Nature will in a moment fully and sufficiently instruct you; she will exactly do that business for you; take you no care with it”

While I was in London, conducting interviews for this book and visiting sites of importance, I had an experience that reminded me of Lewis’s essay. Returning to my hotel from a day-long visit to the Tower, I was obediently following the crowd across a busy  intersection when I heard a voice call out “Watch Out!” and, struck on my lower back, was knocked to the ground. The impact was forceful and disorienting; I had no idea what had happened.  Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw the red of a London bus. “I’m about to be run over by a bus!” I thought, disbelieving but sure; it seemed impossible, on my innocent little research trip, that I should die in this arbitrary, unexpected way, but that was clearly what was about to happen.  I tried to lift myself up, and realized that although I was hurt, I wasn’t about to be crushed, for I’d been hit not by the bus I’d seen out of the corner of my eye, but by an impatient bicyclist; the bus had slowed to a stop by the time I was on the ground.

I was bleeding from a bad scrape on my arm, and sharp darts of pain in my back and side accompanied every breath, in a way that I recognized from a hair-line rib fracture I’d once received in an auto accident. I suppose I ought to have gone to the hospital just to be sure everything was okay, but I didn’t.  And eventually, everything did heal.  The only injury that remained was existential: the memory of that moment when I was sure that I was about to be extinguished, just like that, without warning.  I had felt terror, yes, but then, when the fatal blow seemed inevitable, an eerie calm overcame me.  It seemed useless to struggle—a feeling that I had never before experienced, in a life devoted to making things happen, protecting myself and those I love, and constantly moving forward.  For a moment, when I thought I was about to be struck by that bus, I relaxed into the unfamiliar sense of “letting go.” It was only for an instant, and then, when I realized that the bus had stopped and escape from the traffic was still possible, the self-protective fear returned and I scrambled to my feet, and hobbled across the street to the sidewalk where my husband was standing, looking alarmed.

Dostoevsky, too, had experienced a close brush with death—by the Czar’s firing squad, a sentence from which he was reprieved at the last moment—and fictionalizes his experience through a character in The Idiot.  His account, though very different from Montaigne’s or mine, nonetheless describes a radically altered state of consciousness, not characterized by pain but a sense of the infinity of time, stretching his final moments into an extended reflection culminating in the sense of impending re-birth into the “new self” that James Hillman describes:

“About twenty paces from the scaffold, where he had stood to hear the sentence, were three posts, fixed in the ground, to which to fasten the criminals (of whom there were several). The first three criminals were taken to the posts, dressed in long white tunics, with white caps drawn over their faces, so that they could not see the rifles pointed at them. Then a group of soldiers took their stand opposite to each post. My friend was the eighth on the list, and therefore he would have been among the third lot to go up. A priest went about among them with a cross: and there was about five minutes of time left for him to live.

He said that those five minutes seemed to him to be a most interminable period, an enormous wealth of time; he seemed to be living, in these minutes, so many lives that there was no need as yet to think of that last moment, so that he made several arrangements, dividing up the time into portions–one for saying farewell to his companions, two minutes for that; then a couple more for thinking over his own life and career and all about himself; and another minute for a last look around. He remembered having divided his time like this quite well. While saying good- bye to his friends he recollected asking one of them some very usual everyday question, and being much interested in the answer. Then having bade farewell, he embarked upon those two minutes which he had allotted to looking into himself; he knew beforehand what he was going to think about. He wished to put it to himself as quickly and clearly as possible, that here was he, a living, thinking man, and that in three minutes he would be nobody; or if somebody or something, then what and where? He thought he would decide this question once for all in these last three minutes. A little way off there stood a church, and its gilded spire glittered in the sun. He remembered staring stubbornly at this spire, and at the rays of light sparkling from it. He could not tear his eyes from these rays of light; he got the idea that these rays were his new nature, and that in three minutes he would become one of them, amalgamated somehow with them.”

Anne’s preparations for dying, facing the inevitability of her execution, may also have been filled with internal good-byes, existential confrontation with the mystery of “being” and “nothingness”, and imaginings of becoming one with nature.  I like to think of her final hours as immensely rich, in a way that I cannot comprehend but that were sustaining to her, even beyond her more conventional—but extremely deep, for Anne—religious faith.  And then, at the end, I hope that nature or God (it makes no difference), gave her no more to figure out, no more to regret, no more to say good-bye to, no more work to do, and took care of her dying.

Find out more about the book and the author here.

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Comments

  1. Loved this. Glad to have found this blog!

  2. Yvette Velez says:

    Wonderful article.

  3. Kay McGill says:

    It is amazing after all these centuries that Anne continues to fascinate. She is, without a doubt, the best known Queen Consort. And everyday more interesting items are discovered about her. I am really looking forward to reading this book.

  4. Christine Cole says:

    Love reading about Anne!
    Christine
    colefamilyva@msn.com

  5. Filipa Maia says:

    I would love to read this book! I really like Anne Boleyn, she´s one of my favourite queens!

  6. Fascinating and so very sad. I’m definitely looking forward to reading the book!

  7. Kaitlyn Cornell says:

    You know, sometimes I think, Henry must have cared for Anne at the time of her death if he imported an executioner from France. Susan, you even say that most people were dead after several hacks at their neck. You’d think that if Henry hated Anne that much, he would want her to suffer through hacks of the ax. But, he had a professional swordsman travel from France so that she would be dead within one blow.

    BUT, maybe it was to make him look like a compassionate, merciful person. Henry easily could have done that just to save his own image. I’d like to think he cared for her, but maybe it was an act of selfishness. Who knows! Thank you so much for this article!!

  8. Sounds like a fabulous read! Look forward to another perspective on the injustice done through power and male dominance at that time.

  9. Christine Borgese says:

    I truely love reading posts by authors who are so knowledgeble of Anne and her life and feelings. For Anne to be so abandoned in her most desperate time of need is unfathomable. I think Henry was tired of a woman who was as smart or smarter than he was, and weary of the openness that he had allowed in his relationship with Anne. He was probably also tired of pregnancies that did not produce the male heir that she had promised him.. Lesson…never promise a spoiled child anything, for they may not be forgiving when you need it most! I believe that Anne was a deeply religious woman who found peace in her faith. A final blessing for her in the end. I wonder how history would have changed if she was permitted to live and retire to a country estate for the remainder of her life.

  10. Amy Glasscott says:

    What a truly remarkable and different perspective of Anne’s final time on this Earth. The book sounds like it would be enthralling, and I’m looking forward to reading it.

  11. I’m not entering the contest of course!! Just wanted to say how thrilled and grateful I am for these comments. I am truly moved! Thank you, Natalie, for doing this on your wonderful page!

  12. Kristi Strode says:

    The post is lovely and terribly sad. I look forward to reading the book.

  13. This is an excellent write-up…and I especially like the references to pieces of history that may have been very relevant for everyone during the decisions that led up to Anne’s execution. I can’t imagine the strength she must have employed to get through the days leading up to her death. She remains one of my favorite feminist icons

  14. Thank you for this fantastic guest post. I find this period if history to be fascinating. I particularly liked reading the quotes from various contemporary accounts of the execution. I look forward to reading this new Tudor book.
    – Louise
    Louisefortuna@me.com

  15. Gilly Owen says:

    Anne’s execution was shocking then as it is shocking to us now.
    One of the “Days that shook the world”.
    Susan’s book will be a fascinating read I’m sure.

  16. I love to read about Anne Boleyn, I find her story fascinating. This is another informative and interesting piece, looking forward to reading this one.

  17. Phyllis Hunt says:

    I love anything about Anne Boleyn. This book sounds like a must read for me.

  18. Lynne Burnell says:

    Have always felt an affinity with Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth 1 since a young girl. I read any book I can lay my hands on about Tudor times and feel that Anne was a woman before her time. She was witty, strong and erudite – probably some of the reasons that helped to condemn her because Henry did not like women who could think for themselves. Looking forward to reading the views in the book.

  19. Lynne Burnell says:

    Anne Boleyn was a woman born before her time. She was erudite, strong and passionate with a hot temper. Traits that Henry at first loved but which turned to hate. Anne made the mistake of underestimating Henry thinking his love would last forever but Henry was a spoilt, fickle child when it came to having his own way. Maybe if Anne had tempered her opinions and accepted his penchant for having a mistress as Catherine of Aragon had done, she may have survived and given him a son instead of Jane Seymour. I do not however think she was unfaithful or guilty of any of the crimes she was accused of. It will be very interesting to read Susan’s views.

  20. Such a great post! I can’t wait to read TCoAB.
    Thank you, Natalie and Susan, for the giveaway! 🙂

  21. Marla Willier says:

    Excellent article. Looking forward to reading the book!

  22. I can’t wait to read this book… it’s what inspired me to major in history in college!

  23. Really enjoyed this post, thank you.

    It must have seemed ethlreal to Anne as she walked to her execution in those last few minutes. Her physical self experiencing what was going on around her, and her psyche on a different plane not believing it was her it was happening to, I suppose a bit like when you feel a little faint, but what ever she was feeling, I hope there was no pain.
    Look forward to reading your book Susan.

  24. Raluca Florea says:

    I’m obsessed with the Tudors. I visited Tower of London after seeing the series and this summer I’m going to Haptom Court and Hever Castle. I discovered Hever Castle through your site!

    Much love,

    Raluca.

  25. Karen Kidd says:

    A little earlier, someone posted about Henry’s decision to import a French executioner. I’ve head it said Anne requested this but I’ve never seen any evidence from the time that she did.

    I tend to take a more Starkey approach to Anne and Henry’s other wives, that they were more symptoms of the various times than causes. At this crucial point, there’s more going on than Anne being murdered. Henry is making a change from supporting the French, who largely supported Anne, to the Spanish, who did not. In fact, in the weeks before her arrest, Anne tried to make nice with the Spanish Ambassador as well as with the Princess Mary for these reasons.

    That in mind, I’ve wondered if Henry wasn’t trying to send a signal with the way he had Anne killed, i.e. the French way. That he was symbolically marking an end to his French rapprochement.

  26. Rebecca Dudley says:

    I am so excited to read this.wonderful book. I have been obssessed.with Anne Boleyn and the Tudors.my whole life. Anne to me will always be an inspiration in a way. She never gave up on what she believed in she was a remarkable women. I can not wait to add this book to my vastly growing Tudor collection.
    Rebecca Dudley, Queensland Australia
    ramdudley1988@gmail.com

  27. Beth Ruggles says:

    I can’t wait to read this book! The suspense is killing me!

  28. Jasmine M says:

    Fantastic article, you don’t often see such an in depth analysis of Anne’s psyche in those last days.

  29. Marco Ortiz says:

    the execution of Anne Boleyn is what drew me into British history and the dramatic story of her fall is so interesting that I’m pretty sure that Susan’s me book will be a fine addition to any Boleyn fan, can’t wait to actually read it, probably one of my fav new books

    Marco Ortiz
    Marco.ortiz_89@hotmail.com

  30. Anne Boleyn has always fascinated me, and I read everything I can about her. Everyone has a different take, and, based on this post, I can’t wait to read this book!

  31. I loved this article! Thanks so much for posting! And please enter me in the drawing giveaway! Thanks! 🙂

  32. So so very interesting! a great read i have a new found love for the Tudor era some would now say obsessed.. and i think Anne is such an inspiration to women of today, she possessed the raw strength, courage and spirit i admire! id love to be entered into the contest please, what a fantastic giveaway good luck to all!!! 😀 many regards Louise.

  33. Anna-Mieke Reihana says:

    I have been dying to read this book ever since I knew of it’s existence. So happy to know that it has finally been released! Thank you so much for the opportunity to win a copy of this book.

  34. Bridgette Wendt says:

    I’m fascinated by the era, and have always been impressed with Anne and her drive! This will be an exciting read! Thank you for doing this giveaway!

  35. I can’t agree more with Pamela Kapustka. This is so beautifully written that the feelings of Anne seem to come alive. I find myself often without concentration while reading in English (not my mother tongue) but this article really sucked me in and was easy to read. I’m really going to buy your book! If I don’t find time easily to read, I still can drool over the beautiful cover :d

  36. Caroline says:

    Sounds like an intersting book . a good companion to Eric Ives biography.

  37. jamie -lee shirreff says:

    FINALLY an author that is on Anne’s side!! Anne Boleyn is a major part of England and what is it today! if it wasn’t for her, Church of England wouldn’t be here, if it wasn’t for her intense ideas, spirit and passion. Henry would never of separated from Catherine hence the changes he made just to be with Anne. it puzzles me everyday on why Henry executed Anne, he obviously loved her and believed the horrible stories that was made up about her, seeing the still born child of Anne’s with the severed spine and deformity must of been the last straw for Henry or at least excuse to end the marriage – (which we all know now that the deformity was due to premature labour and the fetas wasn’t fully developed. something you never saw back in the 15 century) did Henry fall harder for Jane Seymour than he did for Anne?? so many questions are unanswered I’m so looking forward to reading this book!!!!!

    keep up the good work – this is one of my favourite sites!!
    Jamie-lee Shirreff

  38. I am so excited about this book coming out! And I really like the On The Tudor Trail site too. I have one whole shelf in my library just about Anne Boleyn, fiction and non. And Another shelf + just about the Tudors. Loved this post by Susan Bordo…if I don’t win, I will buy her book asap.

  39. Glad that I found this website, it’s as good as your facebook page. I hope I win this giveaway, she’s one of my favorite Tudor wives. Oh please, please give me this!

  40. Been following on twitter for awhile and love all the 140 character facts I read, but SO glad to have found this site. At last, someone (well, many people) who share my obsession with this woman.

    As for this article, it is distressing even now, to imagine what this woman must have gone through mentally. I cannot wait to read the entire book. Fingers crossed for a copy! But if not, I do hope they will stock it in London?

    Well written, enjoyable. Thank you. Kate (zenfairy@msn.com)

  41. Anne Boleyn was the most charismatic English Queen! I think that her own sin was being an intelligent, learned, cultured and also beautiful woman with a big sex-appeal who lord it over a powerful king as Henry the VIIIth. God save that Queen!

  42. Brenda Kerezsi says:

    Looking forward to reading this book and adding it to my ever growing collection

  43. I loved this article! Thanks so much for posting! And please enter me in the drawing giveaway! Thanks! I live in Sydney.Would love to have this book.

  44. Sam Boarder says:

    Anne Boleyn has long been my heroine and I read anything I can about her. I would love the chance to read this book!

  45. As May approaches, I always think more about Anne… I loved the article!

  46. Jessica Holland says:

    Loved reading this article. Thank you for sharing.

  47. Wendy Ahl says:

    Looks like an extremely interesting book and one which I would love to read!

  48. Bambi McPhillamy says:

    I would love to read more about Anne and Henry, for whatever reason I’m intrigued by them. I named my daughter Elizabeth 🙂

  49. Maia Emmons says:

    I can’t wait to read your book!

  50. Adding her own feelings on impending death made this article more personable. Knowing that there may be a feeling of “letting go” and not just sheer terror in ones last moments allows the reader to accept the deaths of the executed a little easier. I’m new to this site and am loving all the history. I have been reading these books for years so a site dedicated to this type of book has given me a list of books to locate! Most of mine are bought at thrift stores so they are few and far between. Would love to have a copy of this one sent to me.