Wolf Hall 2: The Mirror and the Light – Did ‘Bess Oughtred’ really hope to marry Thomas Cromwell?

Photo: BBC/Playground Entertainment/Nick Briggs

Welcome to a new series about the fact and fiction of the newest series of Wolf Hall, The Mirror and the Light. Here is the real story of the marriage of Elizabeth Seymour and Gregory Cromwell.

By now you will have seen (as in the picture above) of the marriage of of Queen Jane’s sister Elizabeth Seymour to Gregory Cromwell. In the show, the character’s name is Bess Oughtred, and given the number of Elizabeths in the period, giving her a common nickname is helpful if you don’t know one Elizabeth from another.

Elizabeth Seymour had a hard early life. The eighth of the ten Seymour  children, Elizabeth was married at just 12 years of age to Sir Anthony Ughtred, then aged 52. Why her father John Seymour thought this a good idea remains a mystery. By 1530, John and Margery Seymour had lost two of their children to illness, but their three surviving sons, Edward, Thomas and Henry, had been sent to court. The younger two were put in backroom middling roles, while Edward Seymour was already circling the higher privy chambers as an attendant. But Edward’s wife Catherine had given him two sons whose parentage was dubious to say the least, so marriage prospects may have been a concern for the unmarried Seymour girls. Jane Seymour was already at court too, a lady for Queen Katharine of Aragon. Elizabeth and Dorothy Seymour were only children in 1530. Dorothy Seymour was married off at 13 in 1533, fortunately to someone only a few years older than herself, and began a state of regular pregnancy. Jane Seymour remained unmarried at court. Middle sister Elizabeth was the most unlucky of all.

The marriage of Elizabeth Seymour and Sir Anthony Ughtred surely raised eyebrows, given the bride was 40 years her husband’s junior. Even King Henry wasn’t that lecherous. Anthony Ughtred had a similar military background to Elizabeth’s father, so they were likely friends or at least court acquaintances of similar rank. After losing his first wife without children, Anthony Ughtred acquired Elizabeth Seymour, and she was styled as Lady Ughtred, and joined Anne Boleyn’s court around the same time Jane Seymour was transferred there in 1533. In late 1533, aged 14, Elizabeth gave birth to her son, Henry Ughtred (given the two-year gap between marriage and pregnancy, Ughtred may have not touched his child bride for a couple of years. We can only hope). Anthony Ughtred was the Captain and Governor of Jersey, and Elizabeth and baby Henry lived with him at Mont Orgueil Castle in Jersey, instead of returning to the royal court.

By early 1534, Elizabeth was already pregnant again, but illness came to Jersey, and Sir Anthony Ughtred died in October 1534, aged approximately 56. Elizabeth left her baby son Henry in Jersey and returned to mainland England to serve at court until she needed to retire to give birth to Margery in early 1535, at one of her late husband’s estates in Hexby, Yorkshire, 150 miles north of London. Her son Henry was moved north, and Elizabeth went back to court, leaving the children as head of the household.

Given that by age 16, Elizabeth was a widow with two children, and her sister Jane had been at the royal court without such misery, whether they were close can’t really be measured. But both sisters had to endure the fall of Anne Boleyn, and the rise of their own family, after their father died in late 1535 (his death is mislabelled 1536), and Jane Seymour caught the king’s eye. Elizabeth became one of her sister’s ladies at court, but life was not suddenly simple. In 1537, Elizabeth was 19, had two children to feed, and no money of her own. Hexby Manor, her late husband’s Yorkshire estate, was no glorious money-maker. No official grant of the lands had passed the estate from father to son after Anthony Ughtred’s death. Elizabeth needed to make a bold move. She was young, rumoured beautiful, and the pregnant queen’s sister, but that wasn’t enough to raise children.

Portrait probably of Elizabeth Seymour, c1542 by Hans Holbein

Lady Elizabeth Ughtred sent a letter from York on 18 March 1537 to Lord Cromwell. She explained that her husband had left her with next to nothing, leaving her as a ‘poor woman alone’ and begged to be granted an abbey once it was dissolved, somewhere to live with her children. It’s wild to think that despite being the queen’s sister, Elizabeth had nothing. Given that her late husband had been in service to King Henry and Cromwell, she wrote:

‘I am the bolder to sue herein, and will sue to no other. When I was last at Court you promised me your favour. In Master Ughtred’s days I was in a poor house of my own, but since then I have been driven to be a sojourner, for my living is not sufficient to entertain my friends.’

Elizabeth was resorting to moving between friends’ homes with her children to keep them alive. It is not surprising Cromwell promised to help her at court, he always helped widows and orphans, and paying favour to the queen’s sister would be an obvious courtesy at court. Cromwell likely went to speak with her brother Edward Seymour, Lord Beauchamp. The pair regularly gambled together and Cromwell had lost 45l (£19,000 today) to him just weeks before the letter arrived. Elizabeth soon returned to the London area, likely without her children. Baby Margery goes completely unmentioned in records, except for a note about her marriage up in Yorkshire. Henry Ughtred doesn’t feature anywhere until the 1560s either, so he was likely also north in Yorkshire.

A deal was struck between Thomas Cromwell and Edward Seymour, that Elizabeth would marry Gregory Cromwell, who was approximately 17 at the time. By 1 June, preparations for the wedding were underway as Cromwell ordered a wedding cape and dagger for his son, worth £4,000 today. There was no mistaking who the groom would be at the wedding. Cromwell held a glorious party at Mortlake Manor, the grand castle-like on the Thames usually reserved for the Archbishop of Canterbury (confiscated from Cranmer in 1536 for supporting Anne Boleyn, and given to Cromwell as a gift), Mortlake was to be Gregory and Elizabeth’s home for the time being, lavish, fully staffed, great location, and safe from passing illnesses. Cromwell order a porpoise for the dinner, minstrels to entertain, new uniforms for the staff, and various costs for both Lady Elizabeth and her brother, Sir Edward Seymour, who brought along artichokes, and even Princess Mary sent a gift of quinces. The wine alone at Mortlake for this one party would cost £170,000 today. It may have even been the wedding itself, given Mortlake had a chapel, though the news of the marriage wasn’t made public until 3 August, so that is the generally accepted date of the occasion.

If this June 1537 event was only an engagement party to seal the betrothal, Elizabeth must have felt very pleased with her position, as by the 3 August date, she was already pregnant. Henry Cromwell was born in March 1538, likely at Cromwell’s home Great Place in Stepney, and Princess Mary was his godmother. Cromwell held enormous parties at Hampton Court though February and March 1538 with the king, spent the equivalent of £20,000 today to make sure Elizabeth gave birth in comfort, for her son was the first cousin of baby Prince Edward. Cromwell spent twice as much on outfits, choreographers, horses and and performers at Hampton Court to celebrate in style with the king.

Cromwell soon took on Lewes Priory in Sussex to have it rebuilt as a manor home for his son and daughter-in-law, who got pregnant again almost immediately after giving birth. But by mid-June 1538, Gregory Cromwell was sent to be punished by Bishop Richard Sampson of nearby Chichester for a sexual crime. The Bishop wrote to Richard Cromwell about Gregory’s punishment and told him:

‘the young man has been with me this morning and scornfully refused this penance. Wherefore, I advertise you of it, praying you to weigh it as a matter that touches much the honesty of your friend. For surely if there be any business for it, I will advertise the King’s Majesty of the whole. And I doubt not but when my Lord Privy Seal shall hear the truth, he will assist me in it’.

Sampson was amid having his Chichester cathedral dissolved and its relics stripped, including the shrine of St Richard. Given Sampson needed to give out punishment to Gregory Cromwell, and Richard knew of the situation by the time this letter was written, suggests only two crimes; heresy or sexual assault. Eighteen-year-old Gregory had been
left to enjoy the high life since childhood, given everything without having to earn it, so it is not reasonable to think he may have made an off-hand comment that could have been insulting or even sound heretical to the Catholic bishop. But Gregory was no scholar, no politician like his father, and never showed any interest in religion. Also, that a heretical comment could receive a small punishment but provoke his father in such a wild manner is at odds with reality, leaving only sexual crimes. The church tended to turn a blind eye to (men’s) adultery, equally seduction or coercion without consent. Whatever Gregory did, Sampson said it would affect Gregory’s ‘honesty’, which in turn would harm the ‘reputation’ of Elizabeth, sister to late Queen Jane. Whatever sexual assault Gregory committed (and it cannot have been against Elizabeth), it was enough to potentially make a scandal of the Cromwell family. Given that sexual crimes are rarely punished even today, particularly by the Catholic church, Gregory must have done something especially heinous.

Cromwell had nurtured his only son, given him the world, gained him a noble bride, and had just finished spending countless thousands on Lewes Priory. Suddenly, the young Cromwell household needed to be broken up, Gregory whisked out of Sussex entirely. Sir John Gage nearby offered to lease the Lewes lands so Cromwell could get out at once, and now Cromwell was the largest landowner in Kent, he had somewhere to hide his useless son. Gregory was shipped up to Mortlake Manor, probably at Edward’s Seymour’s nearby home, and a letter from Elizabeth Cromwell arrived, stating she would stay half a mile from Mortlake Manor. Elizabeth wrote, ‘this letter from you is more pleasure to me than any earthly good, for my trust is now only in you …  your humble daughter-in-law’. Cromwell needed to pay for Gregory at Mortlake for Christmas and pay servants to attend Elizabeth, who was six months pregnant while she cared for ten-month-old Henry.

The young couple had reconciled by May 1539 when Edward Cromwell was born at their new home at Leeds Castle, and Thomas Cromwell was born around May 1540, Katherine Cromwell a year later, and then Frances Cromwell in 1542, named after Richard Cromwell’s wife who had recently passed away.

So while The Mirror and Light shows Bess Oughtred looking to marry a man close to the king, it was probably lucky she didn’t, though the early years as Lady Cromwell were not happy ones either. She continued to sign her name Elizabeth Ughtred until 1540 when Gregory was made a baron, but she was safe from her brother-in-law King Henry after writing him a groveling letter, disavowing her father-in-law when he was executed.  When Gregory Cromwell died in 1551, Elizabeth married Sir William Paulet, Earl of Wiltshire, and after her death in 1568, Her eldest son, Henry Ughtred, married his stepsister Elizabeth Paulet.

The eldest son of the couple , Henry Cromwell, carried on the family name as part of a string of quiet Cromwell MPs who eventually gained power in Ireland. Edward Cromwell died of illness around the same time his father Gregory died. The third son of Gregory and Elizabeth Cromwell, Thomas Cromwell, went on to be an archivist in parliament and created the first ever English-Italian dictionary, continuing his grandfather’s love of the country and language, and remained close to Ralph Sadler, while Katherine and Frances Cromwell married politicians and lived quiet lives. None of these children are ancestors of genocidal maniac Oliver Cromwell; he was the great-great-grandson of their cousin, Richard Cromwell.

All sources come from The Private Life of Thomas CromwellMy publisher might come for you if you plagiarise.

BOOK REVIEW: ‘Thorns, Lust, and Glory’ by Estelle Paranque

A queen on the edge.

Anne Boleyn has mesmerised the English public for centuries. Her tragic execution, orchestrated by her own husband, never ceases to intrigue. How did this courtier’s daughter become the queen of England, and what was it that really tore apart this illustrious marriage, making her the whore of England, an abandoned woman executed on the scaffold? While many stories of Anne Boleyn’s downfall have been told, few have truly traced the origins of her tragic fate.

In Thorns, Lust and Glory, Estelle Paranque takes us back to where it all started- to France, where Anne learned the lessons that would set her on the path to becoming one of England’s most infamous queens. At the court of the French king as a resourceful teenage girl, Anne’s journey to infamy began, and this landmark biography explores the world that shaped her, and how these loyalties would leave her vulnerable, leading to her ruin at the court of Henry VIII.

A fascinating new perspective on Tudor history’s most enduring story, Thorns, Lust and Glory is an unmissable account of a queen on the edge.

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Thorns, Lust and Glory: The Story of Anne Boleyn offers a fresh and captivating perspective on one of Tudor England’s most enigmatic figures. Anne Boleyn, whose life and tragic death have fascinated historians and the public alike for centuries, is brought to life in this compelling biography that traces her journey from a courtier’s daughter to the queen of England, and ultimately, to the scaffold. Paranque skillfully examines Anne’s early life, particularly her formative years in France, to explore how these experiences shaped the woman who would become Henry VIII’s most controversial wife.

One of the most impressive aspects of Thorns, Lust and Glory is Paranque’s focus on Anne’s time in the French court. This period of Anne’s life is often glossed over in other biographies, but Paranque brings it to the forefront, arguing that it was in France that Anne developed the skills, charm, and political acumen that would later captivate Henry VIII. At the French court, Anne was exposed to a sophisticated culture of courtly love, intellectual debate, and political strategy, all of which she would later use to her advantage in England. Paranque vividly depicts the French court as a place of both opportunity and danger, where Anne honed her abilities but also where she learned the harsh realities of court life—lessons that would both elevate and then doom her.

Paranque’s portrayal of Anne is nuanced and empathetic. Rather than depicting her simply as a victim of Henry VIII’s whims or as a scheming temptress, Paranque presents Anne as a complex and resourceful woman who was deeply influenced by her upbringing and experiences. Anne’s time in France, Paranque suggests, not only gave her the tools to rise to power but also left her with vulnerabilities that would later be exploited by her enemies at the English court. This duality is central to Paranque’s interpretation of Anne’s life, making this biography both a study of her strengths and a poignant exploration of her tragic flaws.

The book also provides a compelling analysis of the forces that led to Anne’s downfall. While many accounts focus on the immediate events leading to her execution—her inability to produce a male heir, the rise of Jane Seymour, and the political machinations of her enemies—Paranque traces the origins of Anne’s fate back to her early alliances and the lessons she learned in France. This approach offers a broader and more complex understanding of why Anne ultimately became the “whore of England” in the eyes of her detractors and why Henry, who had once moved heaven and earth to marry her, so ruthlessly discarded her.

BOOK REVIEW: ‘The Waiting Game’ by Nicola Clark

Every Tudor Queen had ladies-in-waiting. They were her confidantes and her chaperones. Only the Queen’s ladies had the right to enter her most private chambers, spending hours helping her to get dressed and undressed, caring for her clothes and jewels, listening to her secrets. But they also held a unique power. A quiet word behind the scenes, an appropriately timed gift, a well-negotiated marriage alliance were all forms of political agency wielded expertly by women.

The Waiting Game explores the daily lives of ladies-in-waiting, revealing the secrets of recruitment, costume, what they ate, where (and with whom) they slept. We meet Maria de Salinas, who travelled to England with Catherine of Aragon when just a teenager and spied for her during the divorce from Henry VIII. Anne Boleyn’s lady-in-waiting Jane Parker was instrumental in the execution of not one, but two queens. And maid-of-honour Anne Basset kept her place through the last four consorts, negotiating the conflicting loyalties of her birth family, her mistress the Queen, and even the desires of the King himself. As Henry changed wives, and changed the very fabric of the country’s structure besides, these women had to make choices about loyalty that simply didn’t exist before. The Waiting Game is the first time their vital story has been told.

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Nicola Clark’s The Waiting Game: Ladies-in-Waiting at the Tudor Court delves into the fascinating world of the women who served the queens of Tudor England, offering readers a unique perspective on the courtly life that is often overlooked. While much has been written about the kings and queens who shaped this era, Clark shines a spotlight on the ladies-in-waiting who played a critical, though largely behind-the-scenes, role in the political and personal dramas of the Tudor court.

Clark begins by exploring the multifaceted roles these women played in the lives of the Tudor queens. Far more than mere attendants, ladies-in-waiting were companions, friends, and even political operatives. They were the only individuals granted access to the queen’s most private chambers, assisting with everything from dressing and bathing, to listening to her innermost thoughts. In this intimate setting, these women wielded a subtle but significant power, capable of influencing royal decisions through a private conversation, a thoughtful bribe, or a strategically arranged marriage.

One of the strengths of The Waiting Game is how Clark brings to life the daily existence of these women, revealing the intricate details of their backgrounds, selections and how they lived at court day-to-day. The book offers a vivid portrayal of what it was like to live at the Tudor court in both public and private.  Clark’s research is thorough, drawing on a wide range of sources to provide an authentic and immersive experience for the reader.

The Waiting Game stands out as the first comprehensive account of the vital role these women played in the Tudor court. Clark’s writing is both engaging and insightful, making this book accessible to both scholars and general readers interested in Tudor history. By focusing on the ladies-in-waiting, Clark provides a fresh perspective on the era, one that underscores the importance of women’s roles in shaping the course of history, even if they did so from the shadows.

BOOK REVIEW: ‘The Son of Prophecy’ by Nathen Amin

As England’s most celebrated royal dynasty, it’s often overlooked that the Tudors have their origins in rural Wales, far from the urban centres of English power where they dared to become great. When Henry Tudor won the English crown by defeating Richard III in battle, he was a stranger to the people he now ruled, an ‘unknown Welshman’ in the words of his defeated foe. In his native Wales, however, Henry had long been championed as the Son of Prophecy, a foretold national messiah who would free his oppressed people from their lengthy misery. How had this remarkable situation come about? In this lucid and riveting account, Nathen Amin deftly explores how one redoubtable Welsh family thrived during lean years of political chaos, national instability, and intergenerational bloodshed to leave behind a complex legacy that changed the face of England and Wales forever. It is a passionately told tale of treachery, cunning, love, and heartbreak. From Penmynydd to Bosworth, this is the enthralling, action-packed story of the Tudors, but not as you know it.

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The Tudors have long been seen as the powerful family of the English court, but their origins cast a much wider story. Nathen Amin’s Son of Prophecy: Henry Tudor’s Road to Bosworth brings to life the story of how this remarkable dynasty began in the rural landscapes of Wales, far removed from the heart of English politics. Amin’s book is a masterful exploration of the journey that transformed Henry Tudor from a quiet figure into a monarch capable of reshaping English history.

Amin begins by illuminating the humble origins of the Tudor family, rooted in the remote Welsh countryside. The book paints a vivid picture of how this family, despite being on the fringes of English power, navigated the treacherous waters of politics, turmoil and decades of war. The Tudors’ survival and eventual rise were not mere accidents of history but the result of strategic alliances, sheer determination, and an unyielding belief in their destiny. Amin deftly explores how these factors created the conditions that allowed Henry Tudor to emerge as a contender for the English throne.

One of the most compelling aspects of Son of Prophecy is Amin’s exploration of the Welsh cultural and prophetic traditions that framed Henry’s rise. In Wales, Henry was not just a claimant to the English throne, but someone destined to rescue his people. This deeply rooted belief in Henry as a national saviour added a layer of significance to his quest for the crown that extended beyond mere political ambition. Amin effectively captures the sense of hope and desperation that accompanied Henry’s rise, making it clear that his victory at Bosworth was not just a military triumph but a fulfilment of a long-held national dream.

Amin’s account of the Battle of Bosworth, where Henry defeated Richard III, is particularly riveting. He skillfully details the strategy, key players, and the high stakes involved, all while keeping the reader engaged with the human elements of the story. The battle is portrayed not just as a clash of armies but as the culmination of a complex and perilous journey that had its roots in the rugged hills of Wales.

What sets Son of Prophecy apart from other Tudor biographies is its focus on the personal perspective and the emphasis on the Tudors’ cultural identity before they became synonymous with English royalty. Amin’s passion for the subject shines through in his writing, making this not just a history book but a story rich with emotion and drama. His portrayal of the Tudors as a family that thrived against all odds, in a time of great uncertainty, adds depth to our understanding of their legacy.

 

BOOK REVIEW: Eating with the Tudors by Bridgette Webster

Eating with the Tudors is an extensive collection of authentic Tudor recipes that tell the story of a dramatically changing world in sixteenth-century England. This book highlights how religion, reformation and politics influenced what was served on a Tudor’s dining table from the very beginning of Henry VII’s reign to the final days of Elizabeth I’s rule.

Discover interesting little food snippets from Tudor society, carefully researched from household account books, manuscripts, letters, wills, diaries and varied works by Tudor physicians, herbalists and chronologists. Find out about the Tudor’s obsession with food and uncover which key ingredients were the most popular choice. Rediscover old Tudor favourites that once again are being celebrated in trendy restaurants and learn about the new, exotic food that excited and those foods that failed to meet the Elizabethan expectations.

Eating with the Tudors explains the whole concept of what a healthy balanced meal meant to the people of Tudor England and the significance and symbology of certain food and its availability throughout the year. Gain an insight into the world of Tudor food, its role to establish class, belonging and status and be tempted to re-create some iconic Tudor flavours and experience for yourself the many varied and delicious seasonal tastes that Tudor dishes have to offer. Spice up your culinary habits and step back in time to recreate a true Tudor feast by impressing your guests the Tudor way or prepare a New Year’s culinary gift fit for a Tudor monarch.

While I am late to the reviewing party, I can assure you I read this book as soon as I could get hold of a copy, just like many others. Brigitte Webster has created a true gem with Eating with the Tudors, a journey into the culinary world of Tudor England, presenting a rich tapestry of recipes and rituals that defined dining in the 16th century. This book not only provides readers with a fascinating glimpse into the flavours and ingredients of the era but also allows a reader to understand the social, cultural, and historical context in which Tudor food was enjoyed.

Eating with the Tudors begins by setting the scene, a picture of Tudor life and society. With meticulous attention to detail, the author describes the sights, sounds, and smells of the Tudor kitchen, as well as the social hierarchies that governed dining etiquette. Through engaging storytelling and historical anecdotes, the book immerses readers in the vibrant world of Tudor gastronomy. Central to the book are the recipes themselves, and Webster presents a wide array of dishes, from hearty stews and pies to delicate desserts and confections. Each recipe is accompanied by detailed instructions, as well as historical notes that provide insights into the origins and significance of the dish. You too can make sweetmeats like Elizabeth gave to Robert Dudley, if you so fancy.

One of the book’s most intriguing aspects is its exploration of Tudor dining customs and rituals. Webster delves into the elaborate feasts and banquets that were a hallmark of Tudor court life, as well as the rituals surrounding everyday meals in noble and common households alike. Through descriptions of table settings, serving practices, and entertainment, the author paints a vivid picture of the social significance of dining in Tudor England. But the book is no boring academic list of info, you get all you need and nothing you don’t, insight and tasty ideas all in one. The book is accompanied by a banquet of photos to give you a visual insight into the tastiness of the era.

Eating with the Tudors is already a much-loved feast for the senses and the intellect. Bridgette Webster’s blend of historical scholarship and culinary expertise makes this book a must-read for anyone interested in Tudor history, gastronomy, or the intersection of food and culture. Whether you’re a food enthusiast looking for new recipes to try or a history buff eager to learn more about life in the 16th century, this book is sure to satisfy your appetite.

(excuse my lazy food puns)

Eating with the Tudors is available from Pen & Sword