On this day in Tudor history, 29th January 1536, Queen Anne Boleyn faced a devastating personal tragedy that would have profound implications for her future and the Tudor dynasty.
Anne suffered a heartbreaking miscarriage, losing a son, on the very day her predecessor, Catherine of Aragon, was laid to rest. This event marked a pivotal moment in Anne’s life, as her already precarious position as queen began to unravel.
In this video, I delve into the details of that fateful day, exploring the contemporary accounts that describe Anne’s miscarriage and the political ramifications it had. I also address the myths and misinformation that have surrounded this event over the centuries, including the unfounded claims of a deformed foetus…
Transcript:
On this day in Tudor history, 29th January 1536, Queen Anne Boleyn suffered a heartbreaking miscarriage. To make this tragic moment even more poignant, it happened on the very same day that her predecessor, Catherine of Aragon, was laid to rest at Peterborough Abbey.
For Anne, this was not just a personal loss – it marked the moment her already fragile position as queen began to unravel. Without providing Henry VIII with the son he so desperately craved, and with Catherine now gone, Anne’s future looked increasingly bleak.
Today, I’ll explore what happened, the devastating implications for Anne, and the myths that have surrounded this tragic event…
Contemporary sources describe Anne’s miscarriage in detail. Eustace Chapuys, the imperial ambassador, reported:
On the day of the interment [Catherine of Aragon’s funeral], the Concubine had an abortion which seemed to be a male child which she had not borne 3½ months, at which the King has shown great distress.
And herald Charles Wriothesley recorded:
Three daies before Candlemas, Queene Anne was brought a bedd and delivered of a man chield, as it was said, afore her tyme, for she said that she had reckoned herself at that tyme but fiftene weekes gonne with chield.
These accounts confirm that Anne miscarried a male foetus, likely around 15 weeks into her pregnancy. For Anne, who had likely suffered a stillbirth in 1534 and whose only surviving child was her daughter, Elizabeth, this loss was catastrophic. It had been her last chance to secure her position as queen.
The timing of Anne’s miscarriage couldn’t have been worse. Just days earlier, Henry VIII had suffered a fall during a jousting match. Although contemporary accounts played down the accident, stating that he wasn’t seriously hurt, it was a reminder to Henry VIII of his mortality and the fact that the future of the Tudor dynasty was not secure. This event would have intensified Henry’s obsession with securing a male heir – a son that Anne, it seemed, could not give him.
And all was not well in paradise. Henry may have once been obsessed with Anne, moving heaven and earth to make her his, but Chapuys had observed that Henry had grown increasingly distant from Anne in the months leading up to the miscarriage. According to the ambassador, he barely spoke to her, and, after the miscarriage, Henry coldly told her, “he saw clearly that God did not wish to give him male children.” These words must have been devastating for Anne. Without a son, she was left vulnerable to her political enemies, particularly Jane Seymour’s rising faction.
And Catherine of Aragon’s death on 7th January 1536 had removed a significant obstacle. With Catherine gone, Henry no longer had to worry about returning to his first wife or acknowledging her as queen if he set Anne aside. Ending his marriage to Anne suddenly became so much easier. He could move on to wife number three, someone who COULD give him a son.
Over the centuries, Anne’s miscarriage has been surrounded by scandal and misinformation, particularly the claim that the foetus was deformed. This idea has been used to portray Anne as a witch or an immoral woman capable of incest, but it has no basis in contemporary accounts.
The myth, which has been popularised in fiction such as Philippa Gregory’s “The Other Boleyn Girl”, actually originated nearly 50 years after the miscarriage, in 1585, when Nicholas Sander, a Catholic recusant, wrote that Anne “brought forth only a shapeless mass of flesh.” However, as Anne’s biographer Eric Ives pointed out, no contemporary source mentions any deformity.
Sander’s account is riddled with inaccuracies, including the infamous claims that Anne had six fingers and a wen under her chin. His goal was clear: to discredit both Anne and her daughter, Elizabeth I. His claims about the miscarriage are not credible and should be dismissed as anti-Protestant propaganda.
Anne’s miscarriage wasn’t just a personal tragedy, it was a political disaster. She had failed to produce the male heir Henry VIII believed was essential for the Tudor dynasty, and her political enemies were quick to exploit her weakened position.
Jane Seymour, one of Anne’s ladies-in-waiting, was increasingly capturing Henry’s attention, and the miscarriage gave the king an excuse to distance himself further from his second wife, and Anne’s inability to secure her role as queen left her dangerously exposed.
What makes Anne’s story even more tragic is how she was remembered—or, rather, how she wasn’t. Instead of being seen as Henry’s true queen, the mother of his son, Henry chose to erase Anne entirely from his life. Within days of Anne’s execution, Henry married Jane Seymour, a woman who, unlike Anne, was able to give him the son he desperately craved.
In stark contrast to Anne, Jane Seymour was remembered with reverence by Henry. When Jane died in 1537, just days after giving birth to Prince Edward, Henry ensured that she would always be regarded as his ‘true wife’, depicting her in paintings of the Tudor family and the Tudor dynasty, even when he was married to Catherine Parr. And he chose to be buried beside Jane at St George’s Chapel in Windsor, ensuring their eternal association. Anne, on the other hand, was executed as a traitor and buried unceremoniously in the Tower of London, her memory overshadowed by the scandal and accusations surrounding her final days.
Yet, in the end, it was Anne Boleyn who had the last laugh, don’t you think? Although Henry sought to erase Anne, their daughter, Elizabeth, became one of the greatest monarchs in English history. Elizabeth I reigned for 44 years, bringing stability and prosperity to England, far outshining her half-brother Edward and ensuring her mother’s legacy lived on.
Anne’s miscarriage on 29th January 1536 wasn’t just the loss of her child—it marked the loss of everything she had worked for: her position, her security, and her future. But through her daughter, Anne’s name would be forever tied to a golden age in English history, ensuring that her influence endured long after Henry and Jane were gone.
What are your thoughts on this tragic event?
