#Jane Seymour died because she was a woman who gave birth

[coochiequeens]

The Church of England was created because HenryVIII knew Mary wasn’t a son

[cristinborgia]

AU Austria: Best destinations for the wives of Felipe II of Spain (It should be clarified that he was not a good husband to say)

Mary Tudor- Queen consort of France (1516-1571)

Henry VIII of England was desperate, France did not want to form alliances with England trying to marry his daughter Elizabeth to the dauphin of France, Francis of Brittany. His second wife, Anne Boleyn tried to convince the French ambassadors to commit her only daughter to the dolphin, but Francis I of France would only accept an engagement to Mary, Henry VIII's legitimate daughter. Mary had been a maid to her younger sister Elizabeth in Hatfield for two years now and had been declared illegitimate, but it is believed that Henry still had a fondness for her eldest daughter and even considered her favorite.

In the end, thanks to his best friend Charles Brandon and his lover, Jane Seymour, the king was convinced to legitimize his eldest daughter in secret from his wife, the Boleyns and Cromwells. Mary Tudor was called to her father at More's Castle, something that made many servants or the other nannies in the House of Elizabeth think. Lady Maria was reunited with her father, who was said to hug her daughter for the joy of seeing her again. Henry VIII made a small ceremony where he legitimized his daughter in the eyes of the priest Thomas Cranmer, who was threatened with execution if he did not do what the King ordered, despite the fact that Cranmer was faithful to Anne Boleyn.

Maria was given back her title of Princess of England, Princess of Wales and above all the alliance with the dauphin Francis III of Brittany was signed, she also being a Dauphin of France and future Queen of France. In the middle of the year 1535 while Henry VIII's birthday was being celebrated, the princess arrived with some of her ladies looking charming and beautiful. It is known that Ann Boleyn was about to faint when she saw her stepdaughter entering and that her husband received her with open arms, being the cherry on the cake that Henry VIII declared before the court to Mary Tudor as a legitimate daughter and therefore the current one. Princess of Wales above Princess Elizabeth.

After that news that scandalized all of England, Mary was returned to her rooms in Ludlow Castle and received a pension from her father, but the princess sent this money to her mother, Catherine of Aragon, who was in trouble. economic after being exiled. Although Mary hated Anne Boleyn, she always had a fondness for her younger sister, Elizabeth, and asked her father not to take away her comforts from the little girl after she stopped being Princess of Wales.

At the end of 1535 the princess left for France saying goodbye to her relatives and asked Alice Middleton, widow of Thomas Moro, to deliver a letter to her mother after her departure. On January 1, 1536, Maria arrived in France, being received by her father-in-law, her fiancée and her in-laws.

Mary and Francis fell in love at first sight and Francis is said to have called Mary "the most beautiful and cultured princess he has ever known." The wedding took place a month later in Marseille, being a great ceremony and the dolphins were acclaimed in France and England. Mary was considered the desired queen after the death of Queen Claude in 1524 and they thought that she would bring color, peace and joy to France.

Francis and Mary settled in the duchy of Brittany where the princess sent some sums of money to her mother, Catherine secretly being Mary of Salinas the one who gave this money to her queen. While this was happening Ann Boleyn had an abortion and the king wanted to execute her under the crimes of adultery, witchcraft and incest, but in the end the second marriage of Henry VIII was declared void. Anne was exiled from the court and retired to a country house with her mother Isabel Howard.

At the end of the year 1536 Enrique married Jane Seymour and this managed to convince the king to be less harsh with Catherine of Aragon so he gave her first wife some fair amounts of money to eat. In 1537 Mary was born she had her first son, Henry who would be King of France as Henry II of France and this birth was taken with great joy for France. That same year, her younger brother was born, Edward the desired Prince of Wales and María, together with her family, traveled to England where she became the godmother of her brother, treating him with great affection.

María had a good relationship with some of her political relatives, but her sister-in-law Catherine de Medici always saw her as a rival of hers since she wanted to sit on the French throne with her husband, Henry of Valois. In addition, Catherine envied Maria since she had a good marriage with Francis, and a very healthy male child, while she had children who presented some deformities or a delicate health and her husband Enrique was in love with his lover Diane de Poitiers at the same time. which gave all his attention.

In 1538 his first daughter was born, Catherine named in honor of her maternal grandmother Catherine of Aragón, this would be Queen consort of Spain as she was the second wife of Philip II. Two years later in 1540 Mary was born who would be Queen of Scotland by marrying the eldest son of James V, James VI of Scotland. The birth of three healthy children increased Mary's popularity, in addition to the fact that she had made it fashionable to wear dark-hued dresses with diamonds as decoration, something unusual in the French court.

In 1541 her second son, Arthur, was born, who would become Duke of Orleans after the death of two of his cousins, Charles and Enrique. In 1543 her last daughter was born, Charlotte who would be Princess of Transylvania and her favorite.

Henry VIII died in the year 1547 being succeeded by the young Edward as Edward VI. Mary attended the coronation of her younger brother and asked permission to take her mother, Catherine of Aragón with her because she was already an older woman and it would be good to spend the last years happy with her. This was accepted by Edward VI due to the great affection he had for his older sister and María left with her mother for France but not without first recommending to her brother that he write letters in case he needs help and that he lean on his loyal advisor, Eustace Chapuys to deliver those letters because he knew that the King's uncles, Thomas and Edward Seymour would do everything possible to control the kingdom.

A few months after the death of Henry VIII of England, King Francis I of France passed away and the Dukes of Brittany were crowned, Francis being the second of his name. Mary made her mother her personal secretary, as well as being her loyal advisor, mother and daughter remaining very close.

In 1549 Thomas Seymour was executed on thirty-three counts of high treason. The Queen of France traveled to England and declared herself regent for the minority of her little brother. Although Mary was not very interested in politics, she knew that Edward Seymour, the brother of the late Thomas, would do his best to become regent and she did not want England to fall into the ambitious hands of the Seymours. Her position as regent did not please the Protestants and some members of the court, but especially Edward Seymour who believed he had more right to be the regent of her nephew. On January 23, 1550, Edward Seymour broke into the king's rooms to try to kidnap him, but the barking of Edward VI's favorite dog alerted the guards who arrested the Duke of Somerset. In the end Edward was imprisoned for treason and attempted murder of the king and half a year later he would be executed.

Mary, frightened by this situation, decided to send her younger brother to France to be under the protection of the king and people the queen trusted. The Queen's regency had many ups and downs due to her Catholic beliefs and her religious reforms to limit the power of Protestants whom she viewed as heretics. The regent spent a year in England and a year in France trying to carry out her position as Queen consort of France, this being somewhat stressful for her.

In 1553 her grandson, Henry the future Henry III of France, was born and the queen loved her grandson very much, so much that she granted properties in the Duchy of Brittany for her enjoyment. Two years after the birth of her grandson, King Edward VI became engaged to the French princess Elizabeth de Valois who was the niece of Mary.

Her role as her regent was repeatedly engulfed by tensions between Catholics and Protestants, the latter being the ones who did not want a woman, much less a fervent Catholic, to rule in the name of her king. These pressures and threats to her life caused different depressions for Mary, which were aggravated when her mother, Catherine of Aragón, died in 1558 due to heart problems at the age of 73.

The burial of her mother in the basilica of Saint-Denis, Mary Tudor left the regency of England when her brother Edward was 21 years old. Mary returned to France in 1560 with her family and continued her role as queen consort of France. In 1565 her husband Francis hers began to have various health problems and died that same year from an alleged stomach cancer being the traumatic death of her for Maria who was still depressed by the death of her mother.

Despite these deaths, the widowed queen remained next to her children, especially next to hers, her first-born Henry of hers, who was crowned Henry II of France. The queen mother focused on leading a quiet and family life with some of her grandchildren, but it is known that she had many complications with her young daughter Charlotte who was Princess consort of Transylvania when she married Esteban Bathory and with him she had a marriage marked by the infidelities, jealousy and the supposed madness of the princess.

In 1570 Esteban Bathory died and his son Esteban “el negro” locked up his mother in a mental asylum for his supposed insanity. Maria tried her best to get her little girl out of there and return to France with her, but this was denied by her grandson and her court. The confinement of the dowager princess made the French family begin to intrigue against the Bathory claiming that they were heretics who showed loyalty to Satan and that Charlotte, being a fervent Catholic, decided to get rid of her.

The health of the queen mother suffered after the confinement of the princess and she passed away at the end of the year 1571 at the age of 55. Ten years after her death, her grandson Esteban “el negro” died without issue, being succeeded by her younger brother Henry, who freed her mother, Charlotte from her, allowing her to return to her normal life.

AU Austria: Mejores destinos para las esposas de Felipe II de España (Cabe aclarar que el no fue un buen esposo que digamos)

María Tudor- Reina consorte de Francia (1516-1571)

Enrique VIII de Inglaterra estaba desesperado, Francia no quería formar alianzas con Inglaterra tratando de casar a su hija Isabel con el delfín de Francia, Francisco de Bretaña. Su segunda esposa, Ana Bolena trato de convencer a los embajadores franceses de comprometer a su única hija con el delfín, pero Francisco I de Francia solo aceptaría un compromiso con María, la hija legitima de Enrique VIII. María llevaba ya dos años siendo criada de su hermana menor Isabel en Hatfield y había sido declarada ilegitima, pero se cree que Enrique todavía sentía aprecio por su hija mayor e incluso considerada su favorita.

Al final gracias a su mejor amigo Charles Brandon y a su amante, Jane Seymour, el rey fue convencido de legitimar a su hija mayor a escondidas de su esposa, los Bolena y Cromwell. María Tudor fue llamada ante su padre en el Castillo de More algo que hizo pensar a muchos criados o las otras niñeras de la Casa de Isabel. Dama María se reencontró con su padre el cual se decía que abrazo a su hija por la alegría de volver a verla. Enrique VIII hizo una pequeña ceremonia donde legitimaba a su hija a los ojos del sacerdote Thomas Cranmer, quien fue amenazado con ser ejecutado si no hacía lo que el Rey ordenaba, pese a que Cranmer era fiel a Ana Bolena.

María le fue de vuelto su titulo de princesa de Inglaterra, princesa de Gales y sobre todo se firmo la alianza con el delfín Francisco III de Bretaña siendo también delfina de Francia y futura reina de Francia. A mitades del año 1535 mientras se celebraba el cumpleaños de Enrique VIII, la princesa llego con algunas de sus damas luciendo encantadora y bella. Se sabe que Ana Bolena estuvo apunto de desmayarse al ver a su hijastra entrando y que su marido la recibiera con los brazos abiertos siendo la cereza en el pastel que Enrique VIII declarara ante la corte a María Tudor como hija legitima y por lo tanto la actual princesa de Gales por encima de la princesa Isabel.

Después de aquella noticia que escandalizo a toda Inglaterra María le fue devuelta sus habitaciones en el Castillo de Ludlow y recibió una pensión de su padre, pero la princesa destino este dinero a su madre Catalina de Aragón quien estaba en apuros económicos tras haber sido exiliada. María pese a que odiaba a Ana Bolena, siempre tuvo un cariño a su hermana menor Isabel y pidió a su padre que no le quitaran a la pequeña sus comodidades tras dejar de ser princesa de Gales.

A finales del 1535 la princesa partió hacia Francia despidiéndose de sus familiares y pidió a Alice Middleton, viuda de Thomas Moro que le entregara una carta a su madre después de su partida. El primero de enero del año 1536 María llego a Francia siendo recibida por su suegro, su prometido y su familia politica.

María y Francisco se enamoraron a primera vista y se dice que Francisco llamo a María “la princesa mas bella y mas culta que haya conocido”. La boda se celebro un mes después en Marsella siendo una gran ceremonia y los delfines fueron aclamados en Francia y en Inglaterra. María era considerada como la reina deseada tras la muerte de la reina Claudia en 1524 y pensaban que ella traería color, paz y alegría a Francia.

Francisco y María se instalaron en el ducado de Bretaña donde la princesa enviaba algunas sumas de dinero a su madre, Catalina en secreto siendo María de Salinas la que entregaba este dinero a su reina. Mientras esto ocurría Ana Bolena tuvo un aborto y el rey quiso ejecutarla bajo los crímenes de adulterio, brujería e incesto, pero al final el segundo matrimonio de Enrique VIII fue declarado nulo. Ana fue exiliada de la corte y se retiro a una casa de campo junto a su madre Isabel Howard.

A finales del año 1536 Enrique se caso con Jane Seymour y esta logro convencer al rey de que fuera menos duro con Catalina de Aragón por lo que le entrego a su primera esposa algunas cantidades de dinero justas para comer. En 1537 nació María tuvo a su primer hijo, Enrique que sería Rey de Francia como Enrique II de Francia y este nacimiento fue tomado con gran alegría para Francia. Ese mismo año nació su hermano menor, Eduardo el deseado príncipe de Gales y María junto a su familia viajaron a Inglaterra donde ella se convirtió en la madrina de su hermano, tratándolo con mucho cariño.

María tenia una buena relación con algunos de sus familiares políticos, pero su concuñada Catalina de Medici siempre la vio como una rival ya que ella quería sentarse en el trono francés junto a su marido, Enrique de Valois. Además Catalina envidiaba a María ya que ella tenia un buen matrimonio con Francis, y un hijo varón y muy sano, mientras que ella tenia hijos que presentaban algunas deformidades o una delicada salud y su esposo Enrique estaba enamorado de su amante Diane de Poitiers a la cual daba toda su atención.

En 1538 nació su primera hija, Catalina llamada en honor a su abuela materna Catalina de Aragón, esta sería Reina consorte de España al ser la segunda esposa de Felipe II. Dos años después en 1540 nació María que sería Reina de Escocia al casarse con el hijo mayor de Jacobo V, Jacobo VI de Escocia. El nacimiento de tres hijos sanos aumento la popularidad de María, además de que ella había puesto de moda usar vestidos de tonos oscuros con diamantes como decoración, algo poco usual en la corte Francesa.

En 1541 nació su segundo hijo, Arturo que sería Duque de Orleans tras morir dos de sus primos, Carlos y Enrique. En 1543 nació su ultima hija, Carlota que sería Princesa de Transilvania y su favorita.

Enrique VIII falleció en el año 1547 siendo sucedido por el joven Eduardo como Eduardo VI. María asistió a la coronación de su hermano menor y pidió permiso para poder llevarse a su madre, Catalina de Aragón con ella debido a que ya era una mujer mayor y sería bueno pasar sus últimos años feliz. Esto fue aceptado por Eduardo VI por el gran cariño que tenia hacia su hermana mayor y María partió junto a su madre a Francia no sin antes recomendarle a su hermano que le escriba cartas por si necesita ayuda y que se apoye en su leal consejero, Eustace Chapuys para entregar aquellas cartas debido a que sabía que los tíos del Rey, Thomas y Edward Seymour harían todo lo posible por controlar el reino.

Unos meses después del fallecimiento de Enrique VIII de Inglaterra, falleció el rey Francisco I de Francia y los duques de Bretaña fueron coronados siendo Francisco el segundo de su nombre. María hizo a su madre su secretaria personal, además de ser su leal consejera permaneciendo madre e hija muy unidas.

En 1549 Thomas Seymour fue ejecutado por treinta y tres cargos de alta traición. La reina de Francia viajo a Inglaterra y se declaro regente por la minoría de edad de su hermano pequeño. Pesé a que María no estaba muy interesada en la politica, ella sabía que Edward Seymour, el hermano del fallecido Thomas, haría lo posible para llegar a ser regente y ella no deseaba que Inglaterra callera en las manos ambiciosas de los Seymour. Su puesto como regente no agrado a los protestantes y algunos miembros de la corte, pero en especial a Edward Seymour que creía que tenia mas derecho a ser el regente de su sobrino. El 23 de enero del año 1550 Edward Seymour irrumpió en las habitaciones del rey para tratar de secuestrarlo, pero los ladridos del perro favorito de Eduardo VI alertaron a los guardias que detuvieron al duque de Somerset. Al final Edward fue encarcelado por traición e intento de asesinato al rey y medio año después sería ejecutado.

María asustada por esta situación decidió enviar a su hermano menor a Francia para que estuviera bajo la protección del rey y de personas en las que la reina confiaba. La regencia de la Reina tuvo muchos altibajos debido a sus creencias católicas y a sus reformas religiosas para limitar el poder de los protestantes a los cuales veía como herejes. La regente pasaba un año en Inglaterra y un año en Francia tratando de desempeñar su cargo como Reina consorte de Francia, siendo esto algo estresante para ella.

En 1553 nació su nieto, Enrique futuro Enrique III de Francia y la reina amo mucho a su nieto, tanto que concedió unas propiedades en el ducado de Bretaña para su disfrute. Dos años después del nacimiento de su nieto, el rey Eduardo VI se comprometió con la princesa francesa Isabel de Valois que era la sobrina de María.

Su papel como regente se vio varias veces enfrascado por las tensiones entre católicos y protestantes siendo estos últimos los que no deseaban que una mujer y mucho menos una ferviente católica gobernase en nombre de su rey. Estas presiones y amenazas a su vida le causaron distintas depresiones a María que se agraviaron cuando en 1558 falleció su madre, Catalina de Aragón por problemas cardiacos a los 73 años.

El entierro de su madre en la basílica de Saint-Denis, María Tudor dejo la regencia de Inglaterra cuando su hermano Eduardo tenia 21 años. María regreso a Francia en 1560 junto a su familia y continuo su papel como reina consorte de Francia. En 1565 su marido Francisco empezó a tener diversos problemas de salud y falleció ese mismo año por un supuesto cáncer de estomago siendo su muerte traumática para María que estaba todavía deprimida por la muerte de su madre.

Pese a estas muertes la reina viuda se mantuvo al lado de sus hijos sobre todo al lado de su primogénito Enrique que fue coronado como Enrique II de Francia. La reina madre se centro en llevar una vida tranquila y familiar junto algunos de sus nietos, pero se sabe que tuvo muchas complicaciones con su hija pequeña Carlota que era Princesa consorte de Transilvania al casarse con Esteban Bathory y con este tuvo un matrimonio marcado por las infidelidades, los celos y por la supuesta locura de la princesa.

En 1570 falleció Esteban Bathory y su hijo Esteban “el negro” encerró a su madre en un asilo mental por su supuesta locura. María trato lo posible para que su pequeña saliera de ahí y regresara a Francia junto a ella, pero esto le fue negado por su nieto y su corte. El encierro de la princesa viuda hizo que la familia francesa empezase a intrigar en contra de los Bathory afirmando que ellos eran herejes que mostraban lealtad a satanás y que Carlota al ser una ferviente católica decidieron deshacerse de ella. 

La salud de la reina madre se vio resentida tras el encierro de la princesa y falleció a finales del año 1571 a los 55 años de edad. Diez años después de su muerte, su nieto Esteban “el negro” falleció sin descendencia siendo sucedido por su hermano menor Enrique el cual libero a su madre, Carlota de su encierro permitiéndola regresar a su vida normal.

[herstorshe]

Why Jane Seymour and Henry VIII's Marriage Was Not True Love

Jane Seymour has a reputation of being the only wife that Henry truly loved. However, there are many reasons that this probably isn't true. In fact, if you look deep enough, you'll see that Jane's journey to the throne was not too different from Anne Boleyn's.

1. Similar to the Boleyns, the Seymours were also trying to get power through their daughters. Jane was the child of two very powerful courtiers. Her main purpose in life, as a noblewoman of her time, was to snag a rich husband. Just like Anne Boleyn, Henry's love for Jane was almost definitely orchestrated by her brother and father, not by organic or "true" love.

2. Jane was a Catholic and admired Katherine of Aragon. Due to this, it is very likely that she held resentment for Henry's treatment of Katherine, as well as his decision to split from the Roman Catholic Church. Doesn't sound like a good backdrop for love, does it?

3. Jane wasn't being herself in the relationship. When Henry started to get frustrated with Anne, the Seymours saw an opportunity to get more power for their family. So they shoved Jane in Henry's view, giving her directions of how to catch his eye. Since he was annoyed with Anne, who was anything but meek, Jane was told to play the doe-eyed, sweet and shy role. This is a similar technique that the Boleyns used with Anne Boleyn, actually (Katherine was devout and conservative and Anne was supposed to be free-flowing and progressive).

4. The one time that Jane stood up to Henry, he threatened her. During their marriage, Jane asked Henry to pardon those who participated in the Pilgrimage of Grace, a protest against Henry's decision to split with the Roman Catholic Church, as well as his decision to dissolve many monasteries in England for monetary gain. He refused to do so, reminding Jane of what happened to her predecessor, Anne, when she tried to meddle in his affairs -- insinuating that he would execute her if she got too involved in his political decisions. This further shows that they did not have true love for each other. On Henry's end, why would you threaten to kill someone you love? On Jane's end, it would be terrifying to be threatened by your husband, and it definitely wouldn't make you love him.

5. Henry was likely getting frustrated with Jane before she gave him a son. Before giving birth to Edward, Jane actually miscarried a baby in the first year of their marriage, and we all know that once his wife starts miscarrying babies, Henry gets annoyed. He was also probably annoyed with her for the slight "meddling" prior mentioned, and if he was getting annoyed enough to even insinuate an execution, he was probably pretty upset. If he only started loving her more than his other wives after she gave him a son and then died, that's pretty messed up. That does not sound like true love or even love at all. Love that conditional, love where you only earn it if you successfully give that person that one extremely specific thing that they value way too much, is not love.

The king's "favorite wife" does not, at all, mean true love. Jane may have been Henry's favorite wife but that is for two reasons: She wasn't, or at least pretended not to be, strong-willed, unlike her two predecessors and she gave Henry a son. This, however, does not mean that they held true love for each other. Because of the reasons above, it is unlikely that Jane was being herself at all in this relationship so there is no way that their marriage was a product of true love.

It is truly a shame that we have no idea who this woman was just because of the way that life was like for women back then. It didn't matter how you felt, what you thought or who your true self was, you were expected to do anything and everything to get a rich and powerful husband. So, let's stop labeling Jane as "boring" or "quiet", because we have no right to assume what she was like based on the accounts of the sexist men in her life.

Resources:

1. "Why Jane Seymour was actually one wily b*tch." F Yeah History. 6 August, 2018. URL.

2. "Jane Seymour (queen)." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. URL.

3. "The Six Wives of Henry VIII. Meet the Wives. Jane Seymour." Thirteen. Educational Broadcasting Corporation. URL.

4. "Pilgrimage of Grace." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. URL.

[inky-duchess]

History Bites: Worst Marriages

In History Bites, I pick the best moments of history and the antics historical figures in order to give you inspiration for your WIP. Think of History Bites like prompts, only juicer and 90% accurate (results may vary).

Marriage is a battlefield sometimes. History is patterned with thousands of terrible husbands, murderous wives and backstabbing. Naturally it is in us as writers to explore the drama and shed a light on marriages that would probably benefit from a trip to the Jeremy Kyle Show.

George I of England and Elector of Hanover was married Sophia Dorothea of Celle, in an effort to enrich his impoverished family. The marriage was extremely unhappy as George slept around and paraded his youthful mistresses before his wife. Sophia, lonely and isolated, began an affair with Philip Christoph von Königsmarck, a Swedish count. But with the double standard, George was incredibly wroth about his wife being unfaithful. He beat Sophia and divorced her, keeping her imprisoned in Hanover whilst he went to England to rule. He also had Königsmarck murdered for good measure and kept Sophia's children from her so she never saw them again.

George IV only Caroline of Brunswick because his father made him. George was repelled by her the first moment they lay eyes upon her and she didn't like him either. George was drunk for their wedding ceremony. On their honeymoon, they managed to sleep together twice which proved just enough. Caroline fell pregnant with Princess Charlotte. The couple lived separately him hating her and her hating him. A minister once told George that his greatest enemy was dead and George's reply was "God, is she?". When George became King, he barred Caroline from being crowned. She was hammering on the door of Westminster Abbey the entire time he was bringing crowned. She died three weeks later.

The parents of Prince Albert, Enrst of Saxe Coburg wed Princess Louise. Ernst was a bit of a fuck boy and had dozens of mistresses but like George I didn't like his wife finding love either. Though Louise gave him two sons, Ernst did not love her. When Louise took a lover, Ernst cast her out and forbade her to see their sons ever again. She died without ever seeing them.

Mary, Queen of Scots had been raised in France and married to a French King but when he died she returned to Scotland. Immediately, royal matches began to vie for Mary's hand. Mary chose Henry, Lord Darnley to be her husband as he was an heir to England as she was and she like how he looked. It wasn't long before Mary realised how much of a spoiled brat Darnley was. Mary refused to sign a document that would entitle him to rule as monarch after her death. Darnley eventually conceived a child with Mary but some say that he wasn't pleased as the child pushed him away from the throne. Darnley joined a coup of men aiming to drag Mary down. In an effort to paint her as an adultress, they fell upon her secretary the Italian David Rizzio in front of the pregnant Queen. Though the event was shocking, Mary managed to give birth to her son James. A few months later, Darnley paid for being the worm he was. While he was staying at a house at Kirk o' Field, somebody tried to blow up the house. He survived the house blowing up, but not the assassin who strangled him to death. Mary might have been involved.

Isabella of France was only a child of 12 when she married the English King Edward II. It was meant to be the pinnacle of the Anglo-French alliance but it was a disaster from day one. Edward spent the wedding chatting and giving his wedding gifts to his favourite, Piers Gaveston. The triangle of Queen, King and favorite went on for a while, with Edward and Isabella popping out a few children. Isabella was mainly sidelined in her early marriage on account of Edward's relationship with Piers but after a coup by the nobles, Piers was murdered. In the few years after, Edward and Isabella found common ground and had a few happy years. Then came Hugh Despenser, a tall hulking knight who Edward immediately befriended (or boned, in my opinion). Hugh and Edward brought the killers of Piers to justice and began terrorizing the nobility including Isabella, whose children were stripped from her. Isabella had a trick up her sleeve however. When Anglo-French relations deteriorated, Isabella volunteered to go negotiate with her brother the French King. While negotiating she asked that her eldest son be sent to her so that he might meet the French. Isabella jumped to action the first moment her son arrived. She dressed in mourning for her husband and raised an army to depose him with her son as replacement. Isabella invaded England along with her lover Roger Mortimer and won the crown for her son. She had Hugh Despenser executed and imprisoned Edward who died mysteriously in prison.

Henry VIII is probably the worst husband. He went out of his way to marry his brother's widow, Catherine of Aragon who saved his kingdom while he was off playing soldier in France and struggled to birth an heir, giving him only a daughter. Henry's eye wandered and he set his sights on Anne Boleyn. He abandoned Catherine and took up Anne as his wife. The vivacious and challenging nature of Anne soon began to tire Henry as well as Anne's two miscarriage and her birthing of a daughter. He arranged for his councillors to frame Anne for adultery with notable courtiers including her brother. Anne was executed. Henry then married Jane Seymour, who was Anne's opposite. But when Jane dared to ask mercy for rebels, Henry threatened her by asking her whether she recalled what happened Anne. Jane died giving birth to Henry's long awaited male heir. Henry cast his net about Europe to find a bride and set his eyes on the young German noblewoman Anne of Cleves. On New Year's Day 1540, Henry tried to surprise Anne by bursting into her chambers in disguise, one of his favourite tricks. Anne was understandably appalled at the sight of the fat, balding man trying to kiss her leading Henry to storm out and began shouting about how ugly she was and how she smelt. He tried to stop the wedding but the contract was binding so they married. Henry likely couldn't perform in the bedchamber but blamed Anne for being appalling. He divorced Anne and married the teenage Katherine Howard. Though he was smitten with her, it did not stop him from having her executed because she had had previous sexual relations (which very well may have been abuse by male authority figures) and had begun an affair with one of his gentlemen. Henry soon turned to Katheryn Parr, who had her eye on another marriage. Katheryn agreed to marry Henry and for a time they were happy. Henry soon got jealous of Katheryn's literary accomplishments and disliked her intellect so he began proceedings to have her arraigned for heresy. Katheryn talked him out of it and narrowly escaped execution. Henry died living four wives in their grave and two thankful to be alive.

Though the marriage of Philip of Spain and Mary I of England was politically successful, it failed on a personal level. Philip hated living in England and wasn't exactly happy to be wed to a woman a decade older. Mary however was in love with him. She believed she was pregnant twice but each case turned out to be a phantom and false alarm. Philip left Mary to tour his lands in Europe, staying away as long as he could. Mary was distraught without him and often wrote him letters asking him to return to her. Philip proposed marriage to Elizabeth, Mary's sister whilst his wife was dying. Mary died broken hearted without her husband at her side.

Catherine the Great was only a minor German Princess when she wed the heir to the Russian throne. Peter was scarred from smallpox, under the thumb of his overbearing aunt, ill-mannered, obsessed with playing soldiers and torturing animals. Peter got so drunk at their wedding that he could not consummate the marriage but they soon did. Peter kept a mistress and continued to dislike his clever wife. He would order his regiments to get out of their beds and march at his command as well as his wife. Catherine lived in fear of her husband. Peter's aunt the Empress Elizabeth permitted Catherine to have affairs so that she could conceive an heir and Catherine soon gave birth to her son Paul. Peter ascended to the throne but lost it after six months to his wife who may or may not have had him murdered.

[janeyseymour]

Old Soul

An intensely deep analysis on what qualifies Jane Seymour to be an old soul, as told through various thoughts, anecdotes, an article I found online, and a post that I saw on social media.

WC: 7219

In hindsight, what this man said was quite comical. “You’re an old soul,” he had said. It struck Jane Seymour as odd, but what he uttered was truthful, both literally and figuratively. Jane Seymour’s soul really was an old soul- 500 years old if you will. But she also had most of the characteristics of what an old soul would be classified as.

-

“Oh geez,” Jane would mutter to herself quite often. It didn’t matter what she was doing, it was better than what she had truly wanted to say. Knowing that she was in the public eye and had a younger audience, she did her best to keep herself as “PG” as possible, although some of the other queens didn’t follow that mindset as much.

The blonde would trip over the carpet in the house? “Oh geez.” The silver queen would be at a loss of words during an interview? “Oh geez,” she would sigh as she tried to articulate what was in her head. The third monarch would walk into the living room to see Anne Boleyn doing an Instagram live? “Oh geez,” she would laugh before settling next to the green queen.

“And, how do you think life would be different if all of the children were brought back in this life?” the man asked. “Surely, you miss the bright young Edward.” He gave her a sympathetic look. This question wasn’t as malicious as some of the other questions were in regards to the children and her family- no, it was simple curiosity coming from the man. Almost as if he sympathized with her.

“Oh geez,” she mumbled for the third time during this interview before letting out a small chuckle. “Sorry, let me try to find the words...”

“Oh geez,” he laughed genuinely- not at her, but with her. “You say that phrase quite a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she shrunk into her seat a little, feeling as though he was poking fun at her.

“Oh! Nothing to be sorry for!” the man reassured. “It’s just, not many people say that phrase anymore. It’s mostly older people, not younger people like you. Are you an old soul?”

“Well, I mean... Yes?” Jane shrugged her shoulders. Her soul had been alive 500 years ago, although she lived a short time back then. And it was alive now too, although she had only been brought back to life a few short years ago and was barely what others considered her to be around thirty, maybe a few years shy of it. Now though, her morals and character didn’t stray all that much- she still stayed a kind hearted soul who would do virtually anything to keep her family happy- a woman of empathy she remained.

“It’s not a bad thing dear,” the older gentleman responded. “It’s quite good in fact. The way you speak about your family and friends, it shows you’re doing just fine in life.”

“Oh gosh.” The blonde blushed. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that.”

Leaving that interview, she smiled, a light blush still evident on her face. She wasn’t exactly sure what qualified her to be an “old soul”, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest.

-

Scrolling through social media a few nights after the interview with the sweet older gentleman, Jane Seymour found an article that read “17 Signs You’re An Old Soul Stuck in the 21st Century”. Immediately curious and remembering that she was called an “old soul” and was indeed stuck in the 21st century, she clicked the link.

“There is a special kind of person in our world who finds herself alone and isolated, almost since birth.” This line at the beginning of the page intrigued her. At a first glance, she thought to herself that she wasn’t alone and isolated. She had the other five queens to navigate life with, but this would prove to mean a lot more to Jane as she read on and read into what it really meant to her.

“1# You tend to be a lone wolf”

As she read the heading, she couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Oh how this man had been so wrong. She was not a lone wolf- she was the maternal figure of her household for crying out loud!

As she read the description beneath the subheading though, it began to click more. Jane for the life of her felt as though she didn’t necessarily have a place within the queens’ friend group. Of course, the others knew this wasn’t true: Jane was their maternal figure. Jane was more interested in embroidery, knitting, among other things that older people tended to drift towards as opposed to what say, Anne liked to do. Even Catherine Parr, a woman of many written words and not as many verbal words, could relate to the activities that Anne liked to participate in. Anna of Cleves could too. Even sometimes Catalina liked to participate in the- what the third queen thought was useless- drinking nights where the other queens would have a few too many drinks and wind up the next morning with a massive hangover. Jane would sip her glass or two of wine and put them to bed before pulling out her embroidery piece.

It was hard to connect herself to the others too because she truly had been the only one to provide a legitimate son to Henry. The others weren’t resentful towards her for this of course; it was pure luck. But that distanced Jane from them.

“2# You love knowledge, wisdom, and truth”

Jane Seymour was far from the smartest woman in the group. That title went to any of the others besides her, and she wouldn’t argue with you on that one. But that didn’t stop her from trying. The blonde found herself remembering a multitude of times she had told Katherine that knowledge was power, wisdom was happiness, and truth was freedom. It was strange in that way... she had uttered those words without ever hearing them before, and here they were in an online article she had never come across before this day.

Seymour wasn’t always gravitating towards academic knowledge either, no. She would gravitate more towards emotional intelligence and was happy to do so.

“3# You’re spiritually inclined”

The third queen was always fostering love and peace in her life. Whether it be settling an argument between Kat and Anne over who had to replace the chocolate milk or staying up with one of her fellow queens during a rough night, Jane was always trying to foster a peaceful and loving environment in their home. Along with this, the woman was quite sensitive, although she wouldn’t necessarily pin herself as spiritual. The silver queen laughed as she remembered the first time someone called her sensitive and she wept openly:

“Geez Jane, you’re so sensitive. Could you take a joke? I didn’t mean it!” Anne threw her hands up in exasperation when the blonde began to pout over something stupid her predecessor said.

“I-I’m sorry!” The third queen cried.

“Oh dear God,” Catalina had sighed as she simply pulled her friend into a hug and began to rub her back. “It’s okay. Hey, hey, querida: Look at me. It’s not a bad thing to be sensitive. It’s what makes you, you.”

She had overcome the confines of her ego quite soon after being brought back to life. Jane grimaced as she thought back to the first time somewhat had put her in her place. Funnily enough, it had been Katherine.

“You think you got it all figured out, don’t you? The world according to Katherine!” Jane had mocked the pink haired queen early on.

“You think you’re so much better than us just because you had a son! Don’t you?”Kat stared at the woman. “Go ahead! Throw your rocks at me from your little glass house and then take off running! You’re no better than me! We’ve both made mistakes, haven’t we?”

In that moment, Jane Seymour was grounded by a nineteen year old girl, and she realized that she was not above any one person in this house. They had all made mistakes in their past life. Some were bigger than others, but each and every one of them had made mistakes they so desperately wished they could take back.

“4# You understand the transience of life”

So many times had Jane Seymour thought about the transience of life. How could she not? She had died before, and she would die again. It was made clear to the women that their time in the 21st century would come to an end eventually- whether they would be brought back again in another 500 years was unknown, but they had to make the most of the extra time they were blessed with on Earth. While some of the queens took approaches that, in all honesty, terrified the third queen, Jane was well aware that the decisions she made in this life counted. If she wasn’t careful, her actions could ultimately lead to an untimely death.

“Seat belts!” the silver queen exclaimed before she would move the car from the parking lot outside the theater.

“Seymour, Katherine is asleep. How the hell do you expect her to put a seat belt on?” Cleves questioned from the back.

“Buckle her in!” the blonde monarch laughed, but the way she looked at her successor through the rear view mirror told Anna she wasn’t messing around.

“Come on, just drive,” Anne groaned from the middle. “I want to go to bed!”

“No! If we get into an accident on the way home, if she’s not buckled in-” Jane shuddered.

The maternal figure in the household, in her own privacy, had many existential crises. One day, Cathy found her in the midst of one.

“Jane?” the sixth queen made her presence known, or tried to that is. When the third queen didn’t respond, she tried calling her name again.

A blank stare was quickly replaced with a soft smile as Jane came back to and said gently, “Hey love. What’s up?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be dear?”

“Do you know what time it is?” Jane shook her head no. “It’s 2:30 in the morning. You’re usually asleep by now.”

“Oh my,” the silver queen whispered. “How did this much time pass?”

“How long have you been sitting here?” The blue queen made a move to sit next to her friend at the dining room table, a mug of coffee in hand.

“You really need to lay off the coffee this late at night honey.”

“I could say the same for you and tea Mum,” Cathy joked. “But seriously, how long have you been sitting here?”

Jane turned sheepish. “Three hours,” she mumbled into her mug, sipping her now very cold tea. “I guess I just got lost in thought.”

“Why don’t I warm up that tea for you and then we can talk?” The writer gently pried the mug out of the blonde’s hand, only to set it back into her hand a few minutes later.

That night, Jane would reveal that she was terrified of going through this life only to be forgotten in history again. She didn’t know her purpose.

“Jane Seymour, I can promise you you will not be forgotten in history. You never were.”

“I’m only remembered for-”

“We all are, remember? That’s why we have our show,” the sixth queen tried to reason with her.

“Yes but,” Jane paused to wipe a tear from her eye. “Why was I brought back? What if I can’t contribute to society in a meaningful way before I pass again? I mean, we all are going to pass again, but none of us know when. Like, everyone else has already done so much in society and is making the world a brighter place, and I for the life of me can’t find my pur-”

“You stop right there. I will not hear this slander against yourself. So, maybe you’re a bit less outspoken than the rest of us, but you’re behind us every step of the way. Maybe you’re not always doing press like the rest of us, but do you know what you are doing? You foster an environment that allows us to let us be who we want to be and say what we want to say. The five of us are only doing these things because you gave us the confidence to. I mean, for heaven’s sake Jane- look at what you’ve done for Kat. She was this shy, skittish young girl when we were all brought back. She’s the sassy, outspoken, and sweetest young woman now because you helped her. So what if you’re not in the public eye as much as the rest of us? You made that choice, and that choice is 100% valid. You may not be changing the whole world, and neither are any of us. Do you know what you are doing though? You’re changing our world, and that is something none of us are ever going to be able to repay you for. You’re making our world a better place.”

Jane then understood that if she could change just one person’s life for the better, it was worth it. Of course, she was doing so much more- but sometimes it was hard to realize that.

“5# You’re thoughtful and introspective”

The third queen was never not in deep thought. She was always reflecting on the way she presented herself, handled things, and tried her best to develop a sense of self-awareness.

This started soon after she realized she had to put a lid on her temper. Yes, sometimes it would still get the better of her, but she had to get it under control- she was scaring Kat. How she hated the way the fifth queen would shy away from her for a few days after an outburst. And in the beginning, the silver queen had many outbursts, often leading Katherine to avoid her for several days at a time- sometimes even weeks.

“You really have to get your life together Seymour,” she mumbled as looked at herself in the

mirror. “You’re a mess.” From there on out, she practiced EFT on her phone, a tapping program on the right points on her body to help her de-stress and ground herself for the day. The other queens took notice to the change in the blonde’s demeanor. Jane was thankful for being able to reflect on herself and become better for the others.

“6# You see the bigger picture”

The third queen smiled softly at this one. She liked to think she saw the bigger picture. Very rarely did she focus on the trivial things in life; she focused more on how to live meaningfully and use her time to help advance her in this journey of self-growth she was going on. How would having the newest iPhone benefit her (in reality, the phone she had now was quite confusing to her still)? It wouldn’t. How would learning how to edit pictures of herself and learn all of the nifty tools on her phone help better her life? She knew it wouldn’t. It would likely consume her and take time away from her journey. Besides, that wasn’t the message she wanted to send out to her audience. She wanted to show the world that being natural and not always perfect (albeit she definitely struggled with imperfections) was okay. That was a better lesson to teach her followers. Why waste time on small and insignificant details in life when there were bigger things to focus on?

“7# You aren’t materialistic”

Jane Seymour was many things; materialistic was not one of them. Sure, she had the wealth, the status, the fame, and close to the latest tech gadgets, but did she really need them? The short answer was no.

“Janey, don’t you want the new phone too?” Anne had asked her when they all went to the store to upgrade their phones.

Jane shrugged before replying, “This one seems to be working just fine. No need to replace it quite yet.”

“Do you ever use your status to help you get somewhere better in life?” An interviewer had laughed. “It’s not an uncommon practice, I promise you.”

“People actually do that?” The blonde looked at the woman incredulously.

“I have!” Anne announced. “When I started wearing my heelys, I told people about them, and the company sent me new shoes!”

“I did it, but not on purpose. Some people asked me where I got my makeup from and the company sent me a ton of free gifts,” Kat nodded subtly.

“When I complained about my laptop breaking on a live and jokingly said that if Apple was to send me a new computer I wouldn’t complain, they did,” Cathy admitted sheepishly.

“Chocolate,” Cleves just said smugly.

Catherine of Aragon just nodded but wouldn’t reveal how she had used her status to put her up.

“I don’t think I’ve...” Jane trailed off. Had she really never reaped the benefits of her status and wealth like the others?

Materials didn’t enrich her soul the way it may others. No, the third queen was more sentimental. She appreciated the finer things in life like spending time with her family face-to-face as opposed to “Facetime” (is that what it was called?). The silver queen quickly made peace with the fact that she wasn’t materialistic.

“8# You were a strange, socially maladaptive kid”

Jane Seymour was introverted in both this life and last. Sure, she didn’t have a childhood in the 21st century, but she can’t imagine her soul would’ve changed all that much if she had the chance to grow up again. She was still very much the same person she was then... meek, mild, a bit hot tempered at times.

But even in her past life, she failed to fit into the mainstream behaviors she was set to practice. Adults never spoke to her as though she was a kid, some even referring to her as a “little adult” back then. In all honesty, now that she was thinking about it, she never even had a nickname until this life: Janey. It had a hint of a childish play to it, but she didn’t really mind it all that much. It reminded her in times where she was far too headstrong on mothering her family that she was only a young adult in reality.

“9# You’ve undergone an existential crisis”

“It’s common for Old Souls to ask deep and penetrating questions about life in their search for love, truth, and freedom. This quest to live a meaningful existence inevitably means that they will, sooner or later, experience an existential crisis.” Jane laughed- she was extremely familiar with the idea of existential crises. Point #4 easily lays out the undergoing of existential crises that the third queen has experienced. Above this though, Jane could recall many times she had wondered if life was just a product of chance.

“What are you thinking about Mum?” Katherine distracted the blonde by speaking and tucking herself into the older woman’s side.

“What is all this about, anyway?”

“What is what all about?”

“Life,” Jane replied simply. “You know, it’s funny. We all go through this life, but have you ever really stopped to think about what life is about? I mean, in the grand scheme of things, it’s about surviving. To survive you need money, and to get money you need to have a job. But to get a job, you have to be well versed in something. Of course though, shouldn’t life be about happiness? And yet here we are, in a world where many people are just... surviving. They aren’t doing something they’re passionate about and love. Are they happy? Isn’t life supposed to be about living life to the fullest and experiencing life with as much light as one can?”

Katherine could only stare at her mother figure. “Are you... is this...?”

“No, no, this isn’t about me. I was just, you know, walking around town earlier and meandered into a cafe. Do the baristas there... Are they happy with their lives? I made sure I left a nice tip for them. I always try to, but today as I thought about it, I may have left more than I probably should have.”

“How much did you leave?” Kat looked at her curiously.

“A hundred.”

“For a three dollar tea?”

“Yes, but you should have seen the gratefulness in their eyes. Young kids too, about your age. I hope they use that tip for something that makes them happy.”

“Well that’s very kind of you Mum.”

“But then I got to thinking about myself and my life,” Jane trailed off. “What is the point of everything I’ve done? In reality, I haven’t done much in either life I suppose. I mean, really. In the past, I never said anything anybody even deemed worthy of writing down despite the long lengths I went to and the hoops I jumped through to... well, survive I suppose. I wasn’t happy then. And thankfully now, I am surrounded with light and love in this life, but am I doing enough? Is there a point to everything I’ve done in this world?”

“What the bloody hell are you even talking about?” The fifth queen detached herself from the blonde to look at her. “There is absolutely a purpose to everything you’ve done in this world.”

“I mean, Katherine, I died in my past life. That’s what I’m known for.”

“But in this life, you’re known for so much more.”

“Like what Kat? You’re all making your voices heard and speaking up and out about-”

“Sure, we’re all doing that, but so are you. You’re just as much a social justice warrior as the rest of us, even if you’re not as loud about it. Have you heard some of the interviews the rest of us have done?” Jane nodded; of course she had. She would support her girls no matter what. “Haven’t you noticed that in every interview we’ve done, someone always alludes to something that you’ve said to each of us in privacy. We’re learning these social justice ideas from you. We’re just the ones putting them out in the world.”

“I guess,” Jane shrugged. “But I don’t have much to offer to those who aren’t you guys and-”

“That’s not true either,” the pink haired queen cut her off quickly. “You provide the audiences a light and a heart and soul. Think of all of those people, especially the sweet young girls who come up to you and tell you how much it means to them that you give off a maternal aura. You give them this space that feels safe and loving. That’s a lot more than you think.”

“I suppose.” The third queen worried her lip through her teeth a bit.

“I promise you, it is. There is a point of everything you’ve done, even if you can’t quite see it.”

“Thank you love.” Jane pulled the younger woman into a tight hug.

“And you’ve done so much for me,” Kat pulled back a bit to look the older monarch in the eye. “You saved me, and I can never repay you for that.”

“10# You see life through a poetic/contemplative lens”

It was no question that Jane Seymour saw everything through a poetic lens. Yes, she was not the most well versed when it came to actual poems with words, but her outlook on life was quite poetic in itself.

The blonde had settled down on a park bench, happy to observe the others playing a round of catch. Sitting down, she noticed the way the trees swayed gently in the breeze, almost as if they were dancing to the sweet whistle of the wind. Instead of opening up the book she had brought along with the intention of getting through at least a chapter, she closed her eyes and felt the slightly cool breeze on her cheeks, inhaling the sweet oxygen that surrounded her. The sun was warm on her face, creating almost a glow around her to the others who had stopped tossing the ball around to look at the sweet woman in her element. She felt the green grass that snaked its way in between her toes, giggling slightly as it tickled her gently. Nature really was a beautiful thing to Jane Seymour.

The group of five had continued to play their game, leaving the blonde to revel in the beauty surrounding her. Jane opened her eyes at the sound of a child’s laughter. A young boy, about three, had taken to playing with her family- a young boy that looked like a spitting image of the portraits of her Edward. She stopped and drew it in, savoring the sweet little one’s laugh, before heading over herself and placing herself into the game.

“You wanna play?” Cleves looked at her. The third queen nodded with a soft smile before catching the ball and tossing it gently to the little tike, who giggled. Jane couldn’t help but wish that she had these experiences with her son. This was a good time too though.

The group had long since returned home, and Jane settled in her room, a pang now in her chest as she longed for her boy, for the night when she heard a quiet knock at the door.

“Come in love!” She called, fully expecting it to be her Kat. And it was, but Anne was with her too?

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” She quickly wiped away a tear that had escaped, hoping the two at the door hadn’t noticed.

“Uh,” Kat shrugged before settling herself into the bed she so often found herself in. Anne also made her way over to the bed, although she sat a bit awkwardly.

Boleyn looked at her in a way that made Jane uncomfortable. It was almost as if Anne herself was uncomfortable in the room, but she had been the one to put herself in this situation.

Coughing slightly, she spoke, “That little boy looked a hell of a lot like your Eddie at the park. Wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m alright dear. Yes, it hurts a bit to think that I don’t have my little boy with me anymore, but I have you all, now don’t I?” The silver queen pulled her predecessor into a tight hug with one arm, the other already wrapped around the pink monarch.

“I know. It’s just... different, you know?” Jane nodded. She knew Anne felt the same about her sweet Elizabeth.

“His little laugh was just so sweet, wasn’t it?” the blonde said softly, lightening the mood in the room immediately.

“Where’s Mum?” Kat asked Catalina. It was about time they started getting ready for the show.

“Did you check the stage? You know how she likes to sit there sometimes. Check the seats too.” The first queen suggested. Katherine shook her head and ventured out into the theater. Lo and behold, there Jane was, sitting in the back of the theatre deep in thought.

“Mum? Choosing the back of the house this time?”

“It’s nice once in a while to have a change of perspective, both literally and figuratively.”

“You’re so weird sometimes. You know that right?”

“And yet, you still love me.” Jane ruffled the girl’s hair quickly before smoothing it back over.

“I do. You know, we’re supposed to be getting ready for the show about now,” Kat informed the third queen.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I just needed a moment to think I suppose. You know?”

“I do. Do you think I could sit here with you, just for a few moments before we have to go backstage? Maybe I need a change of perspective too.”

“Of course love. You don’t have to ask. You’ve done it many times with me before.” The blonde wrapped an arm around her daughter and pulled her close, pressing a quick kiss to her hairline. Settling back into her position, she got lost in thought again until the golden queen would come out to tell them they should probably be getting ready now.

“Thank you Mum.”

“Of course love.” She kissed her forehead once more before offering a hand to help her up and guide the two back towards the dressing room.

“11# You tend to overthink everything”

It was no secret that the third monarch was quite an overthinker. Many times the others walked in on Jane practicing the way she walked, spoke, held herself. You name it, there was a good chance Jane Seymour had practiced it in the mirror.

“Seymour?” A slightly sleepy Cleves knocked on the door. “Are you in there?”

“Cleves!” Jane whisked the door open, a bright grin painted on her face, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it usually would. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same,” the red queen retorted back.

“Oh no, did I wake you?”

“No, no. I had to go to the bathroom, but I could hear the small squeak of the floorboards, and someone talking to themselves. Are you alright?”

“Just fine love. Just practicing the way I walk.” The fourth queen looked at her in disbelief. “I’m serious! I just... don’t want to come across cocky and rude!”

“I swear, you’re the queen of overthinking. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before. Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Now,” Cleves shot her a look before patting the door frame and walking back to her bedroom.

“Just a few more minutes,” Jane sighed to herself, making a note to walk more quietly.

“Jane? You’ve been staring at the two containers of granola for the past ten minutes. Just pick one, why don’t you?” A slightly disgruntled Catherine Parr had the... honor... of accompanying the resident grocery shopper and was beginning to get antsy. They had been in the store for over an hour, and Jane had only made her way through a quarter of the list of things they needed to pick up.

“But there are so many different reasons to buy both! Which is more healthy? Which one would taste the best? What is the best value for the price? What if there’s a price drop tomorrow? Is it in environmentally friendly packaging?” the third queen rambled on.

“Oh my,” Parr looked at her friend who was now in clear distress. “Why don’t we,” she paused to take the containers out of her hand before continuing. “Just buy both and you can decide which one you like more at home? Then, you can continue to buy just that brand. Sounds like a plan?”

“But that means we’re spending more-”

“None of it is going to go to waste though. You make sure nothing in our house goes to waste hun. Just, come on. We still have a majority of the list to go through, and we need to be back in time to make dinner before Annie decides to try to cook.”

That sped the process up. She didn’t need her overthinking leading to Anne Boleyn destroying her kitchen again.

“12# You struggle with anxiety in social situations”

Jane knew herself well enough to know that anxiety was heightened in social situations. Yes, she was a star in theatre and was always in the public eye, but she was a self-proclaimed introvert.

In this new life, it was quick to show itself when she entered the room where she would meet the other five queens for the first time.

“Jane Seymour,” she spoke quietly when it was her turn to introduce herself. The others mingled, but anxiety had reared its head and left the blonde to deal with the side effects. She considered the way that she held herself. Sure, she had a kind and inviting aura surrounding her, but she was still nervous. Adjusting her posture, she noticed that she was the only one not eating the snacks that had been provided (because she feared that the others would watch and judge the way she ate). Upon this discovery, she grabbed a plate along with a small sandwich before nibbling at it just a bit. Chewing, she held a hand over her already closed mouth subconsciously. Glancing around the room, she noticed she wasn’t the only one who had distanced herself from the larger crowd and was standing in a smaller circle. Katherine Howard, although she hadn’t said much, stuck by her.

“This is a lot, isn’t it?” Jane whispered after she had swallowed her food and taken a small sip of water. The fifth queen could only nod, eyes wide and ridden with anxiety. “Would you like to perhaps get to know each other out in the hallway where it’s a bit quieter? We can maybe eat our sandwiches without feeling like everyone else is staring at us.”

The grateful look the younger woman gave her told her everything she needed to know. This girl was too frightened to say anything, but a mere hour later, the two had already formed a strong and intense connection. Jane had a warm, maternal presence, and Katherine needed someone to mother her and bring her out of her shell. They shared many of the same values, which shocked Jane considering the upbringing Katherine came from as she learned. But in reality it made sense: they were both trying to fill holes in their lives- Jane trying to regain what she once had, and Katherine chasing after what she had always wanted. Kindred spirits, it was if destiny brought them together.

“13# You easily fall into the role of advisor or counselor”

The blonde, now glued to this article, couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this one. Of course she was the role of advisor or counselor. Her girls came to her for so many reasons. They didn’t all call her “Mum” (jokingly or not, they still all had at one point or another) for nothing! She remembered all the times Catalina had come to her in regard to Cathy and how to handle her sleep schedule, the times Anne had come to her crying because she thought she had ruined her relationship with Kat after the two had fought (they were cousins, but they acted more like sisters), the times Anna had come to her with the same ideas she had about not rightfully being placed among the other queens, the countless times Katherine had come to her looking for comfort, advice, and someone to vent to, and the times Cathy had trudged into her room begging her to help her with her writing (Jane couldn’t write or necessarily articulate the way Cathy could, but the two bouncing ideas off of each other always helped the writer process what she wanted to say). Without a second thought too, the third queen had put herself into this position. She never minded either. It may be a lot sometimes for the queen because she was a bit of an empath, but the overwhelmingness of it all was worth it if it meant she was able to help guide those in need.

“14# You enjoy the company of those much older than you” The others didn’t know this, but every Sunday early in the morning, Seymour would head down to the local cafe- long before anybody else was awake. There, she had a friend who was many years older than her (in relative terms. The kind elderly woman at the cafe knew that Jane had been reincarnated, but it hadn’t dawned on her that Jane’s soul had been around for many more years than she expected). Rosemary was her name, and the blonde couldn’t help but be drawn to her from the moment Rosemary sat down across from her.

“Hi?” The queen looked up and down at the older woman now sitting in front of her. “Can I help you?”

“You’re no later than thirty. What has you up and at the cafe this early?” Rosemary didn’t waste any time.

“Just trying to soak up the peacefulness of this beautiful Sunday morning before the rest of my housemates wake up. Gives me time to reflect and think. And you?” The woman dressed in grey smiled invitingly at the wrinkled woman.

“I’ve been up for hours now. Been coming to this here cafe for forty years. Used to come here with my dear husband before he passed. But back to you: you looked to be in deep thought. Care to chat about it?”

The two were fast friends. An unlikely duo? Maybe, what with Jane’s being mild mannered and her newfound friend telling quite the stories at times- not to mention that significant age gap between the two of them. But it was right. The two would trade stories, some from their distant past (or pasts in Jane’s case) and some from the not-so-distant past. Jane had learned so much about the modern world she sometimes felt trapped in, learning that she wasn’t the only one who felt somewhat out of place in the new century.

Above all though, Jane had felt grounded. When she was with Rosemary, it didn’t matter that she was a popstar starring in a show that was making waves around the country. She didn’t have to run around like mad trying to keep up with the antics of Anne Boleyn that always kept her on her toes. No, she was just another human living her life. It didn’t matter what she had or didn’t have. Together the two could have a good old-fashioned chat in the cozy corner of a cozy cafe on a peaceful Sunday morning over a cup of tea.

“15# You crave simplicity”

Jane Seymour, although living a life in the public eye, led a simple life. She craved the simplicity in the often complex world that she lived in. Being drawn to minimalism, it made its way into her everyday. She liked when things were easily read and plain. “Plain Jane” mocked her at first, but she had learned to take pride in it. What was so bad about being plain and well read? It was truthful, and shouldn’t the truth be simple?

“16# You’re attracted to all things vintage”

Vintage drew her in. Maybe it was because some of it reminded her of the times that she lived in before, but it didn’t have to be Tudor era-esque. Really, anything that was a bit older made her feel more at home. She had collections of records to play on her old record player. She had dresses that maybe were a bit more vintage than she was willing to admit. She loved watching programs that showcased antiques. While her co stars would gravitate more towards the newer store, she was drawn into the vintage boutiques and antique shops. She loved the historical sights that she was able to see- some of them holding rich history that she could intertwine herself with. It was simply a wonder to her.

“17# You just “feel” old inside”

“Throw away the ‘Old Soul’ label for a moment and focus on how you feel inside. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? Those who realize that they feel much older than their age reflects are often Old Souls at heart.”

Jane Seymour read over this a few times, truly trying to get a sense of how old she really felt in the times of now. It seemed as though she didn’t reflect a woman in her late twenties. No, she felt as though she reflected a woman who was in her late thirties, and although this wasn’t necessarily the biggest age gap, the difference of a 29 year old to a 39 year old was immense. And then she remembered how deeply she could relate to Rosemary- a woman who was easily forty or fifty years older than her.

“Common feelings that accompany being an Old Soul usually include a feeling of world wariness, mental tiredness, inquisitiveness, watchful patience, and the sensation of being an “outsider looking in.”

The blonde deeply resonated with the feelings that an old soul typically felt.

Later that night, the silver queen was curled up in bed, reading glasses slipping down the tip of her nose as she scrolled through social media mindlessly. She was about to retire for the night when she heard a small squeak from her door.

“Hey Mum,” Kat sighed from the doorframe. “Mind if I-”

“Not at all love. I was just winding down for bed, and I would love it if you joined.” Jane moved over in her bed and patted the space next to her, opening up an arm. Almost immediately, the pink haired queen bolted under the covers with her.

“You look so cute with your glasses on,” Kat commented sleepily. “What were you reading?” She tucked herself more into her mother’s side, if that was possible.

“Oh I was just scrolling through social media.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. I’m just gonna get in my Mama cuddles.”

“Love you my dear.” The third queen pressed a firm kiss to the younger woman’s head before gently playing with her hair in hopes of lulling her to sleep- Katherine looked like she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.

“Love you too Mum,” the pink queen murmured as she dozed off.

Jane held her phone in one hand and her daughter in the other. A few more minutes of scrolling through social media couldn’t hurt.

“Those who experienced childhood trauma are often referred to as ‘mature for their age’ or ‘old souls’ when actually we were children having to adopt intense coping mechanisms in order to survive as adults.”

In this moment, Jane realized the truth in that statement and connected it to the statement at the beginning of the article she had read earlier in the day. She didn’t feel as though she was alone and isolated, but maybe she was a bit more than she had initially thought. She had come from a rather big family in her past life, but she had always felt alone, never being able to relate to her other siblings. And in this life, she was surrounded by five wonderful women who would have her back no matter what, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly different from the rest of them- even if she was one of the younger queens.

In her past life, she had simply found coping mechanisms needed to survive. And those coping mechanisms had made their way into this life too. She rarely had to rely on these mechanisms now. Her heart was open to the five other queens she had the blessing of sharing a home with.

So, maybe being an old soul meant she had some trauma from her past life- she wasn’t there anymore. But being an old soul wasn’t such a bad thing as she walked through life. Maybe, she wasn’t as “stuck in the 21st century” afterall. Being an old soul was rare, and those who surrounded her loved her dearly for it.

[minervacasterly]

“Henry VIII was at Whitehall Palace when the Tower guns signaled that he was once more a free man. He then appeared dressed in white mourning as a token of respect for his late queen, called for his barge, and had himself rowed at full speed to the Strand, where Jane Seymour had also heard the guns. News of Anne Boleyn’s death had been formally conveyed to her by Sir Francis Bryan; it does not seem to have unduly concerned her, for she spent the greater part of the day preparing her wedding clothes, and perhaps reflecting upon the ease with which she had attained her ambition: Anne Boleyn had had to wait seven years for her crown; Jane had waited barely seven months.

It was common knowledge that Henry would marry Jane as soon as possible; the Privy Council had already petitioned him to venture once more into the perilous seas of holy wedlock, and it was a plea of the utmost urgency due to the uncertainty surrounding the succession. Both the King’s daughters had been declared bastards, and his natural son Richmond was obviously dying. A speedy marriage was therefore not only desirable but necessary, and on the day Anne Boleyn died the King’s imminent betrothal to Jane Seymour was announced to a relieved Privy Council. This was news as gratifying to the imperialist party, who had vigorously promoted the match, as it would soon be to the people of England at large, who would welcome the prospect of the imperial alliance with its inevitable benefits to trade.

Although the future Queen had rarely been seen in public, stories of her virtuous behavior during the King’s courtship had been circulated and applauded. Chapuys, more cynical, perceived that such virtue had had an ulterior motive, and privately thought it unlikely that Jane had reached the age of twenty-five without having lost her virginity, ‘being an Englishwoman and having been so long’ at court where immorality was rife. However, he assumed that Jane’s likely lack of a maidenhead would not trouble the King very much, ‘since he may marry her on condition she is a maid, and when he wants a divorce there will be plenty of witnesses ready to testify that she was not’. This apart, Chapuys and most other people considered Jane to be well endowed with all the qualities then thought becoming in a wife: meekness, docility and quiet dignity. Jane had been well groomed for her role by her family and supporters, and was in any case determined not to follow the example of her predecessor. She intended to use her influence to further the causes she held dear, as Anne Boleyn had, but, being of a less mercurial temperament, she would never use the same tactics. 

Jane’s well-publicized sympathy for the late Queen Katherine and the Lady Mary showed her to be compassionate, and made her a popular figure with the common people and most of the courtiers. Overseas, she would be looked upon with favour because she was known to be an orthodox Catholic with no heretical tendencies whatsoever, one who favoured the old ways and who might use her influence to dissuade the King from continuing with his radical religious reforms.

Jane was of medium height, with a pale, nearly white, complexion. ‘Nobody thinks she has much beauty,’ commented Chapuys, and the French ambassador thought her too plain. Holbein’s portrait of Jane, painted in 1536 and now in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna, bears out these statements, and shows her to have been fair with a large, resolute face, small slanting eyes and a pinched mouth. She wears a sumptuously bejeweled and embroidered gown and head-dress, the latter in the whelk-shell fashion so favoured by her; Holbein himself designed the pendant on her breast, and the lace at her wrists. This portrait was probably by his first royal commission after being appointed the King’s Master Painter in September 1536; a preliminary sketch for it is in the Royal Collection at Windsor, and a studio copy is in the Mauritshuis in The Hague. Holbein executed one other portrait of Jane during her lifetime. Throughout the winter of 1536-7, he was at work on a huge mural in the Presence Chamber in Whitehall mural no longer exists, having been destroyed when the palace burned down in the late seventeenth century. Fortuitously, Charles II had before then commissioned a Dutch artists, Remigius van Leemput, to make two small copies, now in the Royal Collection and at Petworth House. His style shows little of Holbein’s draughtsmanship, but his pictures at least give us a clear impression of what the original must have looked like. The figure of Jane is interesting in that we can see her long court train with her pet poodle resting on it. Her gown is of cloth of gold damask, lined with ermine, with six ropes of pearls slung across the bodice, and more pearls hanging in a girdle to the floor. Later portraits of Jane, such as those in long-gallery sets and the miniature by Nicholas Hilliard, all derive from this portrait of Holbein’s original likeness now in Vienna, yet they are mostly mechanical in quality and anatomically awkward. 

However, it was not Jane’s face that had attracted the King so much as the fact that she was Anne Boleyn’s opposite in every way. Where Anne had been bold and fond of having her own way, Jane showed herself entirely subservient to Henry’s will; where Anne had, in the King’s view been a wanton, Jane had shown herself to be inviolably chaste. And where Anne had been ruthless, he believed Jane to be naturally compassionate. He would be in years to come remember her as the fairest, the most discreet, and the most meritorious of all his wives.

Her contemporaries thought she had a pleasing sprightliness about her. She was pious, but not ostentatiously so. Reginald Pole, soon to be made a cardinal, described her as ‘full of goodness’, although Martin Luther, hearing of her reactionary religious views, feared her as ‘an enemy of the Gospel’. According to Chapuys, she was not clever or witty, but ‘of good understanding’. As queen, she made a point of distancing herself from her inferiors, and could be remote and arrogant, being a stickler for the observance of etiquette at her court. Chapuys feared that, once Jane had had a taste of queenship, she would forget her good intentions towards the Lady Mary, but his fears proved unfounded. Jane remained loyal to her supporters, and to Mary’s cause, and in the months to come would endeavor to heal the rift between the King and his daughter.

-          Alison Weir, The Six Wives of Henry VIII

“A story of a later date had Queen Anne finding Mistress Seymour actually sitting on her husband’s lap; ‘betwitting’ the King, Queen Anne blamed her miscarriage upon this unpleasant discovery. There was said to have been ‘much scratching and bye-blows between the queen and her maid’. Unlike the King’s invocations of the divine will, however, there is no contemporary evidence for such robust incidents; the character of Jane Seymour that emerges in 1536 is on the contrary chaste, verging on the prudish. As we shall see, there is good reason to believe that the King found in this very chastity a source of attraction; as he had once turned to the enchantress Anne Boleyn from the virtuous Catherine. Yet before turning to Jane Seymour’s personal qualities for better or for worse, it is necessary to consider the family from which she came … The Seymours were a family of respectable and even ancient antecedents in an age when, as has already been stressed, such things were important. Their Norman ancestry – the name was originally St Maur – was somewhat shadowy although a Seigneur Wido de Saint Maur was said to have come over to England with the Conquest. More immediately,  from Monmouthshire and Penbow Castle, the Seymours transferred to the west of England in the mid-fourteenth century with the marriage of Sir Roger Seymour to Cecily eventual sole heiress of Lord Beauchamp of Hache. Other key marriages brought the family prosperity. Wolf Hall in Wiltshire, for example (scene of Henry’s autum idyll with Jane if legend is to be believed) came with the marriage of a Seymour to Matilda Esturmy, daughter of the Speaker of Commons, in 1405. Another profitable union, bringing with it mercantile links similar to those of the Boleyns, was that of Isabel, daughter and heiress of Mark William Mayor of Bristol, to a Seymour in 1424. Sir John Seymour, father of Jane, was born in about 1474 and had been knighted in the field by Henry VII at the battle of Blackheath which ended a rebellion of 1497. From this promising start, he went on to enjoy the royal favour throughout the next reign. Like Sir Thomas Boleyn, he accompanied Henry VIII on his French campaign of 1513, was present at the Field of Cloth of Gold, attended at Canterbury to meet Charles V; by 1532 he had become a Gentleman of the Bedchamber. Locally, again echoing the career of Thomas Boleyn, he had acted as Sheriff of both Wiltshire and Dorset. It was a career that lacked startling distinction – here was no Charles Brandon ending up a duke – but one which brought him close to the monarch throughout his adult life. Sir John’s reputation was that of a ‘gentle, courteous man’. That again was pleasant but not startling. But there was something outstanding about him, or at least about his immediate family. Sir John himself came of a family of eight children; then his own wife gave birth to ten children – six sons and four daughters. All this was auspicious for his daughter, including the number of males conceived at a time when women’s ‘aptness to procreate children’ in Wolsey’s phrase about Anne Boleyn, was often judged by their family record. It was however from her mother, Margery Wentworth – once again echoing the pattern of Anne Boleyn – that Jane Seymour derived that qualifying dash of royal blood so important to a woman viewed as possible breeding stock. Margery Wentworth was descended from Edward III, via her great-great-grandmother Elizabeth Mortimer, Lady Hotspur. Indeed, in one sense – that of English royal blood – Jane Seymour was better born than Anne Boleyn, since she descended from Edward III, whereas Anne Boleyn’s more remote descent was from Edward I. This Mortimer connection meant that Jane and Henry VIII were fifth cousins. But of course neither the Wentworths nor the Seymours were as grand as Anne Boleyn’s maternal family, the ducal Howards. The Seymours may not have been particularly grand, but close connections to the court had made them, by the generation of Jane herself, astute and worldly wise. Sir John Seymour was over sixty at the inception of the King’s romance with his daughter (and would in fact die before the end of the year 1536); even before that the dominant male figure in Jane’s life seems to have been her eldest surviving brother Edward, described by one observer about this time as both ‘young and wise’. Being young, he was ambitious, and being wise, able to keep his own counsel in pursuit of his plans. Contemporaries found him slightly aloof – he lacked the easy charm of his younger brother Thomas p but they did not doubt his intelligence. Edward Seymour was cultivated as well as clever; he was a humanist and also, as it turned out, genuinely interested in the tenets of the reformed religion (unlike his sister Jane) … The vast family of Sir John Seymour began with four boys: John (who died), Edward, Henry and Thomas, born in about 1508. A few years later the King would speak ‘merrily’ of handsome Tom’s proverbial virility. He was confident that a man armed with ‘such lust and youth’ would be able to please a bride ‘well at all points’. Then came Jane, probably born in 1509, the fifth child but the eldest girl. After that followed Elizabeth, Dorothy and Margery; two sons who died in the sweating sickness epidemic of 1528 made up the ten. Apart from her presumed fertility, what else did Jane Seymour, now in her mid-twenties (the age incidentally at which Anne Boleyn had attracted the King’s attention), have to offer? Polydore Vergil gave the official flattering view when he described her as ‘a woman of the utmost charm both in appearance and character’, and the King’s best friend Sir John Russell called her ‘the fairest of all his wives’ – but this again was likely to loyalty to Jane Seymour’s dynastic significance. From other sources, it seems likely that the charm of her character considerably outweighed the charm of her appearance: Chapuys for example described her as ‘of middle stature and no great beauty’. Her most distinctive aspect was her famously ‘pure white’ complexion. Holbein gives her a long nose, and firm mouth, with the lips slightly compressed, although her face has a pleasing oval shape with the high forehead then admired (enhanced sometimes by discreet plucking of the hairline) and set off by the headdress of the time. Altogether, if Anne Boleyn conveys the fascination of the new, there is a dignified but slightly stolid look to Jane Seymour, appropriately reminiscent of English medieval consorts. But the predominant impression given by her portrait – at the hands of a master of artistic realism – is of a woman of calm and good sense. And contemporaries all commented on Jane Seymour’s intelligence: in this she was clearly more like her cautious brother Edward than her dashing brother Tom. She was also naturally sweet-natured (no angry words or tantrums here) and virtuous – her virtue was another topic on which there was general agreement.

 ... Her survival as a lady-in-waiting to two Queens at the Tudor court still with a  spotless reputation may indeed be seen as a testament to both Jane Seymour’s salient characteristics – virtue and common good sense . A Bessie Blount or Madge Shelton might fool around, Anne Boleyn might listen or even accede to the seductive wooings of Lord Percy: but Jane Seymour was unquestionably virginal. In short, Jane Seymour was exactly the kind of female praised by the contemporary handbooks to correct conduct; just as Anne Boleyn had been the sort they warned against. There was certainly no threatening sexuality about her. Nor is it necessary to believe that her ‘virtue’ was in some way hypocritically assumed, in order to intrigue the King (romantic advocates of Anne Boleyn have sometimes taken this line). On the contrary, Jane Seymour was simply fulfilling the expectations for a female of her time and class: it was Anne Boleyn who was – or rather who had been – the fascinating outsider.

-          Antonia Fraser, The Wives of Henry VIII

“Whilst Jane was always denied a political role, her political interests are clear. She favoured Mary, attempted to save the monasteries and sympathized with the rebels during the Pilgrimages of Grace. Jane’s politics were largely conservative. Her strong character is visible both by her ruthlessness in watching the fall of Anne Boleyn and in the way in which she ruled her household. Jane could have been a queen as strong and influential as Catherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn had been in the early years of their marriages. Unfortunately for Jane, when the opportunity finally arose with the birth of her son, she did not survive. Had Jane lived, as the mother of the king’s heir, she could have asserted her authority safe in the knowledge that her position was finally secure. After Henry’s death, when Jane’s son was only nine years old, she would have had a very strong claim to the regency as the mother of the king. Jane Seymour could have been so much more and, whilst it is possible to glimpse her potential, much of what she could have achieved will forever be speculation. Jane did not live to take on the political role that would have been open to her as the mother of the heir to the throne and her real legacy is her son, Edward VI, and the prominence of her brothers, Edward and Thomas Seymour. Although Henry would go on to have another three wives after Jane’s death, Edward was his only son and, on Henry’s death in January 1547, he became king aged nine as Edward VI Edward was hailed by many in England as a future great king and Jane would have been proud of her son. Edward’s tutor, Sir John Cheke, for example, wrote of the king that ‘I prophesy indeed, that, with the lord’s blessing, he will prove such a king, as neither to yield to Josiah in the maintenance of the true religion, nor to Solomon in the management of the state, nor to David in the encouragement of godliness’. Roger Ascham, the tutor of Edward’s sister, Elizabeth, also sang the youth king’s praises, writing that ‘he is wonderfully advanced of his years’. Edward was raised to be a king and received a formidable education, writing very advanced letters even in early childhood (even if is clear that he must have received some assistance in the earlier letters). In one letter to his father, Edward wrote: In the same manner as, most bounteous king, at the dawn of day, we acknowledge the return of the sun to our world, although by the intervention of obscure clouds, we cannot behold manifestly with our eyes that resplendent orb; in like manner your majesty’s extraordinary and almost incredible goodness so shines and beams forth, that although present I cannot behold it, though before me, with my outward eyes, yet never can it escape from my heart. Edward was raised to be king in the manner of his father but in his appearance, with his pale skin and fair hair, he always resembled Jane. Jane’s greatest regret, when she came to realize that she was dying, was that she would not live to see her son grow up … 

Jane’s legacy is also her own reputation and her relationship with Henry VIII. Jane never inspired the deep obsession in the king that he felt for Anne Boleyn or the admiring love that he, at first, felt for Catherine of Aragon. Instead, he married her almost on a whim. She was the woman best placed at the perfect time. There is even some evidence that Henry came to regret his haste in marrying Jane after seeing some other beautiful ladies at his court. Jane never raised the passion in Henry that some of his other wives did. Throughout their marriage, it is clear that Henry did not entirely view his marriage to Jane as permanent. It was essential that Jane fulfilled her side of the bargain and that was to bear a son. Until that time, as Jane was very well aware, she was entirely dispensable. In spite of this, with her death in giving him the son he craved, Henry’s feelings towards Jane entirely changed and he came to look back on their marriage through rose-tinted spectacles. A commemoration to Jane was written some time after her death and perhaps best sums up how Henry came to view her: Among the rest whose worthie lyves Hath runne in vertue’s race, O noble Fame! Persue thy trayne, And give Queene Jane a place. A nymphe of chaste Dianae’s trayne, A virtuous virgin eke; In tender youth a matron’s harte, With modest mynde most meeke.

Jane spent her entire marriage trying to prove to Henry that she was his ideal woman and, posthumously, she succeeded.

-      Elizabeth Norton, Jane Seymour: Henry VIII’s True Love

“How a woman like Jane Seymour became Queen of England is a mystery. In Tudor terms she came from nowhere and was nothing. Chapuys confronted the riddle in his dispatch of 18 May 1536, which was addressed to Antoine Perrenot, the Emperor’s minister, rather than to the Emperor Charles V himself. Freed from the decorum of writing to his sovereign, the ambassador expressed himself bluntly. ‘She is the sister’, he began, ‘of a certain Edward Seymour, who has been in the service of his Majesty [Charles V]’; while ‘she [herself] was formerly in the service of the good Queen [Catherine]’. As for her appearance , it was literally colourless. ‘She is of middle height, and nobody thinks she has much beauty. Her complexion is so whitish that she may be called rather pale.’ This is a neat pen-portrait of the woman whose mousy, peaked features and mean, pointed chin, are denred by Holbein with his characteristic, unsparing honesty.  So much Chapuys could see. But when he turned to her supposed moral character he gave his prejudices full rein. ‘You may imagine’, he wrote Perrenot, man-to-man, ‘whether, being an Englishwoman, and having been so long at Court, she would not hold it a sin to be virgo intacta.’ ‘She is not a woman of great wit,’ he continued. ‘But she may have’ -and here he became frankly coarse- ‘a fine enigme.’  ‘Enigme’ means ‘riddle’ or ‘secret’, as in ‘secret place’ or the female genitalia. ‘It is said’, he concluded, ‘that she is rather proud and haughty.’ ‘She seems to bear great goodwill and respect to [Mary]. I am not sure whether later on the honours heaped on her will to make her change her mind.’ Whatever was there here -a woman of no family, no beauty, no talent and perhaps not much reputation (though there is no need to accept all of Chapuys’s slanders)- to attract a man who had already been married to two such extraordinary women as Catherine and Anne? But maybe Jane’s very ordubarubess was tge oiubt, Anne had been exciting as a mistress. But she was too demanding, too mercurial and tempestuous, to make a good wife. Like the Gospel which she patronised, she seemed to have come ‘not to send peace but the sword’ and to make ‘a man’s foes ... them of his own household’ (Matthew 10.34-6). Henry was weary of scenes and squabbles, weary too of ruptures with his nearest and dearest and his oldest and closest friends. He wanted his family and friends back. He wanted domestic peace and the quiet life. He also, more disturbingly, wanted submission. For increasing age and the Supremacy’s relentless elevation of the monarchy had made him ever more impatient of contradiction and disagreement. Only obedience, prompt, absolute and unconditional, would do. And he could have none of this with Anne. Jane, on the other hand, was everything that Anne was not. She was calm, quiet, soft-spoken (when she spoke at all) and profoundly submissive, at least to Henry ...”

-          David Starkey, Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII

Images: Jane Seymour painted by Hans Holbein the Younger. Variousa actresses from costume dramas that have played Henry VIII’s third consort. Elly Condron from the documentary drama Secrets of the Six Wives documentary presented by Lucy Worsley. Anne Stallybras from the BBC miniseries The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1970). Jane Asher from the BBC film Henry VIII & his Six Wives (1972). Lastly, Kate Phillips from Wolf Hall (2014).

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Which of Henry VIII's wives do the identify most with? And which do the other members think they'd be?

I decided to just do the first question - also, this ask got straight at my little history buff heart

Source is here.

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Catherine of Aragon (m. 1509 - 1533) - Xemnas, Marluxia, Axel - Henry took the throne in 1509, at age 17. Six weeks later, he married Catherine of Aragon, the widow of his elder brother, Arthur. From the moment young Henry took his nuptials, he obsessed over continuing the Tudor line. Of multiple pregnancies and several births, the only child to survive was Henry and Catherine’s daughter, Mary, born in February 1516.  Catherine remained at Henry’s side for 23 years and is even thought to be the only woman the king ever truly loved. “Henry viewed her as a model wife in every respect bar one… her failure to give him a son,” says Tudor historian Tracy Borman.

Anne Boleyn (m. 1533 - 1536) - Xigbar, Larxene, Vexen - Henry and Anne wed in January of 1533, and Anne gave birth to their first child, Elizabeth, in September the same year. Henry remained hopeful Anne would give him a son, but after a series of stillborn births, Henry lost interest in his wife. Desperate to end the relationship, Henry accused her of adultery and treason and had the marriage annulled. On May 19, 1536, Anne was beheaded for her alleged crimes. She is by far the most studied of Henry VIII's wives, but much of her life remains a mystery, including the terms of her execution.

Jane Seymour (m. 1536 - 1537) - Demyx, Xaldin -  Days after Anne’s execution, Henry married his third wife, Jane Seymour. Jane had served as a lady-in-waiting to both Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. Anne Boleyn’s and Jane Seymour's mothers were first cousins, who shared the same grandmother, and were raised together for a time. “Anne did not stand meekly aside when Henry's interest in Jane became apparent. We know from sources that the pair came to blows on more than one occasion at court,” says Norton. On October 12, 1537, Jane gave birth to Edward VI and died from complications of the birth several weeks later. At the wishes of the king, Jane is buried at St. John’s Chapel alongside him.

Anne of Cleves (m. 1540) - Zexion, Saix -  Henry stayed a bachelor for two years, until his chief minister suggested that he seek a European alliance and marry one of the sisters of Germany’s Duke of Cleves. Henry requested the women’s portraits and found Anne to be the more flattering of the two. When Anne arrived in England on January 1, 1540, Henry was shocked that she looked nothing like the painting. He tried to halt the wedding, but because the arrangement had progressed so far, they married on January 6, 1540. Anne, the so-called “ugly wife,” accepted a divorce and generous settlement six months later and lived in peace as the “King’s Sister” until her death in July 1557.

Catherine Howard (m. 1540 - 1542) - Xion, Lexaeus -  Henry married 19-year-old Catherine Howard—a lady-in waiting to Anne of Cleves—in July 1540. By this time, he had become overweight and unable to walk. Said to be delighted with his rambunctious new bride, Henry showered Catherine with gifts and called her his “rose without a thorn.” But less than a year into their marriage, rumors of infidelity surfaced. With enough evidence that she had been at least promiscuous, Catherine was executed for adultery and treason at the Tower Green on February 13, 1542.

Catherine Parr (m. 1543 - 1547) - Roxas, Luxord -  Henry married his sixth wife, Catherine Parr, in July 1543. A spirited and educated widow, when Catherine showed an interest in Protestantism, Henry had her arrested. She managed to avoid the fate of her predecessors, bringing stability and peace to the court, while serving as a kind and caring stepmother to Henry’s children. She died a year after Henry’s passing.

[merricatblackwoods]

 note: spoilers and trigger warning below. mainly it’s just me ranting a bit about how the spanish princess is being advertised and how CoA & margaret tudor got screwed over. (also how much of a douche canoe henryviii is)

(tw for child death & pregnancy) so in general i despise anything philippa gregory but one thing that is REALLY driving me insane is all the promotion for the second season of the spanish princess. like ‘oh CoA is a badass for going out in full armour while pregnant. aw yeah.’ no. just no. they should not be glamourising this event which honestly i don’t think that she shouldnt have been involved in at a precarious time. yes it is true that she did go out on horseback at EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT but honestly? thats dumb. like really. also she wasn’t anywhere near flooden. and lbh probably a lot of it could have been avoided if medieval england didn’t pm salivate anytime france is at war and try to grab more land as well as if henry viii had kept his mouth shut when talking shit about him being the ‘overlord of scotland’ which led to annoying his brother-in-law james iv and pushing him more to join france’s side. then cause hes a dummy, he leaves his 5-month pregnant wife as regent so he can go landgrabbing in france. she has to deal with the scottish trying to bring him back to england by invasion (which doesn’t work) and this leads to a battle which cost james iv his life. yes england won epically and honestly this probably soured scotland’s relationship with england a hell of a lot more then it already was and pushed them more towards an alliance with france (which tbh the scot/english relationship was pretty bad in the first place and henry vii tried to mend it by marrying his daughter to james iv then his idiot son pulled this sh*te not even two years after becoming king). less then a week after the battle, CoA gave birth prematurely at eight months and her son died a day later. that is what annoys me. i honestly think that so much of this could have been avoided but hviii (and pope julius but i digress) had to prove he had the biggest codpiece and calves. (honestly i truly believe it was his genes that he had no sons [literally] and the stress he put his wives/any women related to him through) the what ifs are honestly baffling to me.

honestly, the moral is: men are idiots and should not be allowed to go to war bc mostly they do it to prove they have the biggest codpieces and in the end its the women who suffer the most and shoulder SO much of the weight. months before england entered the war in 1511, CoA & HVIII’s son (henry) died at 52 days old. before that she had a miscarriage in her second trimester only to become pregnant four months later with said short lived son. by the time the battle of flodden came along, she and henry had only been married/ruling for THREE YEARS and dumbass had literally just turned 20 (plus theres the whole second son thing and prince arthur but i’m getting off track) within the next 5 years, she would have three more pregnancies: a short lived son, mary and a short lived daughter. by 1525, henry had met anne boleyn and well, everyone knows the story.* another woman in this that i feel i should mention is james iv’s wife & hviii’s sister. between 1507 and her husband’s death in sept 1513, margaret tudor had five pregnancies. her first child (james) died a few days after he turned one. five months later in july 1508, her daughter died not long after birth. exactly one day less then two years later, her nine month old son arthur died. in april 1512 she gave birth to james v and in november of that same year, she miscarried a daughter. when her son was a year old, her husband died leaving her regent (her being a woman and hviii’s sister really didn’t help her much). seven months later, she gave birth to a boy (alexander) who like most of his siblings did not live past his first birthday. (honestly that whole period of her life is just painfully tragic and i won’t go into details cause jesus) as i said, it’s the women who suffer while men talk shit and try to have the biggest slice of the pie. then they come home expecting to be coddled and pm saying that ‘you didn’t suffer like i did.’ not to mention god forbid women actually have any power (after all women couldn’t wear codpieces on their dresses, it looks stupid! and woe if they tried to display their calves [i say with GREAT sarcasm]) *continuation because i find it interesting and want to share: two days before the 20th anniversary of the battle of flodden, elizabeth was born and three years later, catherine passed away. on the day of catherine’s funeral, anne boleyn gave birth to a stillborn son. within four months, anne too would be dead. a little more then a year later, jane seymour had passed and within the next 10 years hviii would have 3 more wives.

[edgcofgreat]

{ lili reinhart, cis woman, she/her } i’m sure you’ve seen ( olivia seymour ) around ivywood. she is ( twenty-three ) years old and are a ( personal assistant ). i’ve heard a rumor that she is a huge fan of ( romantic comedies, classic literature & musicals ) and have a tendency to be ( nurturing & gentle ) and ( clumsy & reserved ).

liv is based on jane seymour, the third wife of king henry viii.  she’s known as the ‘  only one he truly loved  ’ because she was able to finally give him a male heir after his previous two wives only have him daughters.  unfortunately, she died in childbirth and never got to see her son grow up.

olivia was always a pretty kind woman, often known as the ‘mom friend’ in her friend group, which was a bit of irony that we’ll get into later.  one day, she met a guy that swept her off her feet, and being the hopeless romantic that she is, she fell hard and fast.

they were together for a few months when it was revealed that she was pregnant with his child.  ever the optimist, she thought that he would be thrilled with the news and they’d raise their child together.

of course, he was a douchebag, so this wasn’t the case.  as soon as she told him the news, he basically declared that she was dead to him and cut off all ties, leaving her to raise their son on her own.

she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who she named edward, or eddie for short.  he’s now two years old and is the absolute light of her life

she works as a personal assistant (so if any muses needs one hmu, first come first serve) so she can make ends meet for her and eddie

[oh-boleyn]

jane / infamy

words: 6216, one shot, language: english

anne / jane /  katherine / catherine

as I said on my ao3, this might be my last one shot in a while (I’m really struggling with college right now, like in this moment I should be doing two assigments which... clearly I’m not doing), but still I hope you all enjoy this piece of garbage of story!

TW: canon, Jane being mean? probably more swearing that what is expected from a jane one shot

the commentary between scenes are things I got from internet about Jane Seymour

Remembered for: being the only wife to provide Henry with a son and male heir.

(…)

Jane Seymour was relieved.

The light is brighter, and her dizziness is starting to fade.

No more pain or ache in her lower body, and she feels quite better than in a long time. Her arms are longing to hold her baby, dear Edward, who has just secured her the position of queen.

She opens her eyes, but instead of finding her chambers, she is in a strange looking room, with Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon. Jane wants to cry, knowing immediately what it meant. She is dead, there is no other way to turn it around. She died and was found guilty of her sins, was it her hell? Being with the other two queens? God punishment for seducing a married man?

They all stare at each other, not knowing how to proceed.

(…)

Virtue and common good sense.

(…)

The new house is nothing like what she was used to, and sharing a room with both Catherines wasn’t exactly in her dreams.

She had less problems with accepting Catherine rather than Anne, after all, with the last the relationship had been more than rocky, but Catherine probably wasn’t Jane’s biggest fan either. Even after the older queen’s death, Jane had always tried her best with Mary, attempting to help her image, trying to reconcile with the religion.

Parr wasn’t bad, but she was quite closed. They weren’t acquaintances in their past lives, but that didn’t mean Catherine would introduce herself and invite her to grab a snack or something. It was hard to think about her, how connected both were but how apart too. The most she would talk was about history, or science, or another thing Jane couldn’t bring herself to truly understand and would be left just nodding along.

(…)

When she died, he actually sunk into depression, officially mourning her for two years before marrying again.

(…)

Looking for a job is not an easy task, it’s not like she ever had to do that before. Her kinsman secured her a good place as the lady of the queen, and even when the court became hostile and fell apart, she managed to still have her place.

But now jobs required so much, not just her needlework and knowing how to perform the arts —whatever arts you want that to mean. Modern positions searched for way too many qualities she doesn’t have.

When Catherine offers the idea of doing a show, she says yes out of desperation of not knowing how to do anything else, not even how get the oven to work. Once it goes out of her mouth, she truly wishes the rest of the queens don’t notice how needy she is of the opportunity.

(…)

By that account, she was practically a saint!

(…)

Opening night was stressful to say the least. There are at least a hundred pairs of eyes on her, and her song – her song! While everyone clapped along Aragon’s and Boleyn’s, her part was different, way out of the upbeat modern pop style.

She couldn’t even have a fun, upbeat song.

It’s not like she didn’t want to, Jane tried so hard to add comic relief to her story, trying puns and obnoxious screaming. But her song was slow, more of a ballad instead of the pop-rock songs the show featured. And, to top it, she was the only one who talked about understanding Henry, about loving him, staying by his side.

Of fucking course, she had to be the sweet woman who just happened to love a horrible man.

(…)

Jane was Henry’s true love.

(…)

It is hard to fill her place, her own shoes she left behind when she died.

Jane Seymour, known because she was the one he truly loved. The one he asked to be painted years after she died, instead of just letting her rest in peace. Jane, the dutiful wife, the one who had the son he so desperately wanted.

And the audience loved it, they loved to see the dutiful mother, the one who can’t stop talking about her son. They cheered, they heard everything they always knew.

Because she wasn’t an interesting character in the story, she was just another woman there to obey the orders of the king.

She wishes she was known for something else, but that’s not her life. Of course, playing another character would be fun, being the temptress, the evil stepmother, the fun one, someone people actually cared about. Instead, she was the tedious, boring perfect wife. Reduced to her uterus capacity, and ability to shut her mouth.

(…)

I assure you she is as gentle a lady as ever I knew, and as fair a Queen as any in Christendom.

(…)

“Good morning, Katherine.” Jane says.

The teenager enters the kitchen with heavy steps, still not quite awake from the night of sleep.

“Morning.” She replies, voice small.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Do you know how to cook?” Katherine retorts, a smug look on her face. “Don’t worry, I will buy something. Maybe cheesecake? Or apple pie?”

“Why not a chocolate cake.” Jane offers, getting the water off of the stove, almost burning herself in the process.

“Do you like chocolate cake?” The younger asks, “I would have pinned you as a vanilla kind of person.”

Jane feels judged. The smile on Katherine’s face just says it all.

“I prefer it, but never mind.” The teenager finishes.

(…)

Here lies Jane, a phoenix / Who died in giving another phoenix birth.

(…)

They move into a new house.

The moment Jane enters her new room, she knows it will take at least two months to get it completely clean. There are spiderwebs, and the white walls look more of a light grey. She makes mental notes to buy bleach, and other cleaning supplies.

At least her bed is clean, but she makes sure it doesn’t touch any wall for the sake of it not getting dirty.

(…)

Jane Seymour was a kind woman too, a better person than Anne.

(…)

“Are we coming to the bar tonight?” Anna asks.

Cleves is nothing less than an interesting character to say the least. They never got to meet in their past lives, but the woman knew her son. She even lived long enough to see him dead.

“I’m not sure,” Jane replies, “I don’t think that Boleyn is going to want me there.”

“But I would want you there.” The fourth queen says easily. “If it’s your decision, that’s alright, but I would like you to come.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

(…)

Her ladies-in-waiting and her maids were held to a strict code of behavior and insisted that they “serve God and be virtuous”.

(…)

The people, and society as a whole has changed.

Feminism is a common term, and women can –almost, to a certain point– hold the same power as men do.

Still, Jane feels more judged than ever. In her past life it was easy, if she did exactly what she was told, nobody would question her. She was bound to serve and obey, and planned to let everyone know about it. Unlike Anne, she was not going to take her chances. She couldn’t say that it brings her happiness, but it gave her peace of mind.

Nobody would contradict the orders of their king.

Nowadays it is different. People talk about freedom, about being able to own yourself, your body, your choices. Nonetheless, they talk about her. Judged her for saying good things about Henry in her speech, for loving him when it was her only choice.

It was her choice to keep her hair long, not like Anna’s. Her choice to wear make-up, to prefer dresses rather than pants. To talk about her son, to own her past. The public sometimes hated her for it, for her decisions, calling them a part of patriarchy leftover from the century in which she used to live.

They hate that she reduces herself to it, to being a mother, to fill what was expected of her, but that is still the only thing they know about her.

(…)

Jane herself was known for her quiet and soothing manner.

(…)

She sometimes sees it; the way Aragon and Boleyn are mothers.

Sometimes it is just a word, a name. Something totally irrelevant that snaps them into it, into caring in a way only mothers do. The way they treat Katherine, or how they look at a little kid on the street. How they talk to the younger fans of the show.

Jane feels like she doesn’t have it. She doesn’t care about babies and kids. Doesn’t have an attachment to them, to the idea of being a mother. If someone handed her a baby she would probably freeze and don’t know how to proceed.

Was it justice? Did she die so Edward wouldn’t have to put through with her as a mother?

Jane thinks she was just not born for that, to have a kid, to care for them. There were women who had maternal instincts, but she didn’t. Instead, when having to tend for Katherine, she grew overwhelmed, not having a clue of what to do next.

(…)

We will never know if Jane sought the king’s favor or was a frightened pawn of her family and the king’s desire.

(…)

“Would you like to go to brunch tomorrow?” Aragon asks one day.

It’s Saturday night, which means she is totally exhausted after a two show day, but still, she nods. Slowly, Aragon and Jane had started to rebuild the good relationship they once had. Both of them holding so much respect for the other.

“Have you seen Kat?” Parr interrupts Jane’s thoughts.

“She was here just a minute ago.” Aragon says, looking around.

“Well, Anne is looking for her and there’s no trace of where she could be.” The survivor explains quickly.

“Let’s look for her.” The first queen concludes, taking action.

They pass fans, excusing themselves, still taking a few pictures just for the sake of fulfilling the stagedoor the queens always did. Once they are out, a cold breeze hits their faces. Walking through the streets seems dangerous, but luckily enough Kat is near, curled up in herself. They signal to Anne and Anna to quickly come with them.

“Kitty, can you hear me?” Anne is fast to get on her knees, getting to be at the same height as Katherine.

“We should take her inside,” Jane states, “it’s not safe here.”

“Outside air can help, Jane.” Boleyn snaps at her. “Kat?”

She wishes she could be mad at her, but at the same time the second queen is just trying to do the best for her cousin. She acts almost instinctive, as if anyone would do that. The way she stays near her, but without invading personal space amazes Jane, even if that decision makes sense. She would’ve tried to pull the younger girl closer, thinking about it makes it seem like not such a good idea, the immediate response to fight or flight after a panic attack wouldn’t help.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is small. “Can we go home?”

Jane nods, and starts walking behind her towards the car. It comes as a surprise the fact that Katherine rides with them, instead of Anne and Anna as she usually does, but they don’t say a thing. She maintains her eyes on the girl, worried about her.

Once they arrive, Katherine is the first to get into the house, leaving the other two queens alone.

“I’m worried about her, should we try to have a talk?” Jane asks, Catherine denies with her head.

“No, we have to just make her trust us,” she says easily, “once she does, if needed she will come to us. Confrontation is mostly not the way to go with teenagers.”

“How do you know that?”

Aragon smiles.

(…)

She was the only one of his wives to be buried next to him.

(…)

If Jane said that she never wanted to be queen, it would be a lie.

The idea always sounded appealing. Who wouldn’t want to be one? Even in a modern context, girls still pretended to be queens, to live in the prettiest castles.  Being queen came with power, not nearly as much as men had, but still a fair amount. The chance to change things, to have opinions. Not counting how good it could be to the family, to secure a future.

Jane would be lying if she ever said that becoming a queen was not something she longed for. But she didn’t want Anne to suffer such a horrible death, no matter if it was or wasn’t fair.

(She used to think that another kind of death wouldn’t be as bad, to die for natural causes would just be God’s will, and to have a divorce would be the Man’s will.

Now she thinks every ending is horrible until proven different.)

In this life she kept quiet about it, knowing how she might have interfered in what Henry ultimately did to Anne. She preferred to not talk about her time as queen, how he threatened her with the same fate her predecessor suffered.

She once thinks about boarding the subject with Parr. She saw that the writer went through the same, a warrant order for her head that was never finished, and the painful death after a childbirth. Still, she doesn’t do so, knowing that her and the survivor are not the same.

Catherine Parr was smart, got her way because of her words. Jane Seymour was just the ignorant fool who kept quiet to please the man.

(…)

The ladies in waiting were expected to wear a belt of pearls with at least 120 pearls in them, and if they didn’t, they weren’t allowed to appear before her.

(…)

“Did you bring something for the cold?” Jane interrogates.

“Yeah, my pink sweater, I left it in the dressing room.” Katherine explains.

“Okay, I will look for it, finish taking your makeup off.” She orders.

The third queen stops staring at the queen, instead looking around. Finding the piece of clothing, she reaches out for it, but winces for a moment when the younger talks.

“Jane, just stop it, okay?” Katherine asks.

“It’s cold, put on a coat or something more, you will catch a cold.” She tried to give the teenager her pink sweater, but all she got was rejection.

“Just don’t. Stop acting as if I’m a child.”

It doesn’t come as a surprise, after all, Katherine usually snapped at her.

“You are nineteen.” Jane indicated, anger bubbling up in her voice.

“I am like almost five hundred years old.” There was bitterness in the statement. “Nobody cared about me being eighteen when the king beheaded me. They didn’t even care when I was younger, why now?”

“Because I care about you.” The words come out before she can really think about it.

Did she really? Cared for the younger?

Of course, she didn’t want harm to come to her, but then again also not to any of all the strangers she knew in this life. Nonetheless there is something about Katherine, an innocence, a broken past. Jane wanted to take care of the girl, to help her through whatever she was going through.

“You shouldn’t.”

It comes out almost aggressive, like a threat. The queen who died of natural causes doesn’t know how to feel about it.

(…)

She learned pretty quickly that it was best to stay out of religion and politics, and instead focused her energy on domestic issues.

(…)

Jane doesn’t break like Katherine, but she still does.

The way Katherine breaks suddenly, they can all point at that moment and say that is when she started changing. Harming herself in not obvious ways, drinking more caffeine than what she should, sleeping less, eating the unhealthiest food she can find. They notice, but their own egos and need to not gossip in order to not be the catty bitches fighting against each other like history has painted stop them from acting as a group.

Instead, the way Jane breaks is slowly, anger destroying her. Consuming every inch of her, growing and taking parts of her life.

It starts as a bitter, indignant feeling when she is left to cook or help cleaning up, but it quickly grows. Gets infuriating, maddening when people call her good . She is not, she might have been in another life, but not in this one. She was not innocent, but rather had a fair amount of guilt. It evolves to be hostile when she realizes that nothing will change it.

Jane Seymour, the mother figure who not only failed at being educated and staying alive, but also failed at having maternal instincts. The good queen, who did nothing but harm. The mother of the king, a king who died young and so did she.

She hates herself for it.

(…)

Her ladies-in-waiting and her maids were held to a strict code of behavior and insisted that they “serve God and be virtuous”.

(…)

She tries to self-isolate, to take a step away.

It doesn’t help, instead the anger comes back stronger each time, and she hates it. Jane hates how violent the feeling can be, how abrasive. She controls herself as she had always done, but it doesn’t make it any better, a resentment towards her fellow queens growing.

Seymour was not a jealous woman, not in her past life and not in this one. She didn’t want to be like the other queens knowing that there were so many things wrong in their lives. It was not about it.

It was about making a mistake, and how she never got to commit those. Jane couldn’t regret anything in her life without someone telling her that “she had it easy”, after all, she was the one he “truly loved”. Even when her problems were addressed, it always came before a way to minimize it, or worse, blame her for them.

The queens knew that it was none of their faults, but people still pinned them against each other, choosing favourites, giving each other a role. And she couldn’t say a word, because hers was good.

It didn’t matter what she truly wanted, or what her opinions about it were, because their mind was made up.

Why change something that is not broken? Why get mad over a good thing? What was better, being a bitch or a saint ?

Jane thinks that being the villain of the story would be easier, liberating. Heroes are just too unreal to exist, but pushing the narrative meant forgetting her own flaws, thoughts, problems.

But who cared?

All they ever wanted was a devoted woman.

(…)

Jane curbed her tongue and accepted her place as the dutiful wife.

(…)

"Can you stop being such a stuck-up child and act mature for a fucking moment?" The third queen asks, becoming irritable, "I just fucking asked you to do one thing. One fucking thing. You are not a toddler, stop throwing a fit!"

It turns out, living up to five hundred years of expectations become harder the angrier you get. The worse the feeling of burning grows, the worse it hurts inside. Jane refuses to let it slide, to let it show, but Anne is not making it any easier.

"Go off, Janey," the green queen laughs, "or chill out, it's not that deep."

"Except, it is." She demands. "I asked you to please do one thing, and it's not the first time. I ask you, you do it for a week, and then forget about it. Are you taking me for an idiot?"

"Honestly? No," she replies easily, "I just don't care enough."

They stay watching each other for a moment.

It brings back memories, but their roles are reversed. In another timeline Jane would be childish, not caring enough, or maybe caring so, so much, about the locket and chain around her neck. Anne would watch her with such a fury in her eyes, and the blonde would internally laugh.

She regrets it. Jane hadn’t seen it coming. The dreadful ending.

“But I know you do; I will try to change it.” Anne answers, her voice just above a whisper.

A soft: “Thank you” it’s all Jane can say.

“You’re welcome, darling .” A playful smirk passes through her lips.

“Bloody idiot.”

“I know.”

Boleyn gives her a sincere smile.

Maybe sometimes yelling is useful.

(…)

It is also true that she was not as sharp or witty as Anne Boleyn.

(…)

It doesn’t last long. Before she knows it, the show must keep going.

Jane smiles, sings her song, sings about Edward. Edward, her Edward. Her brother too, was named Edward. He died. Her brother too, was Thomas. Thomas who did so much wrong. Thomas who apparently loved Parr. Thomas who got sentenced to death.

Thomas and Edward. Thomas. Edward.

She doesn’t realize how much panic creeps in until she is alone in her room crying. An unexpected feeling of grief for the family she once had, as much grief as hate and resentment towards them. Horrible atrocious acts made just for the sake of it.

The Internet says that her son, her little baby, luckily died young.

They talk about luck, something good. And even as much as she wants to believe that her kid won’t ever be a threat, she knows his father. Henry was atrocious, ruthless. Growing under his influence was probably not the ideal childhood. If only she hadn’t died.

Her skin aches, and she has to ground herself controlling her breathing.

Was it possible that every man in her old life was terrible?

(…)

She never seemed to cause drama or do anything without her husband’s permission, and she managed to maintain her carefully crafted image of being virtuous, loyal and obedient.

(…)

“Jane, can we talk?” Aragon questions, knocking on the door.

The blonde nods, slowly looking up.

“What’s going on?” The divorcee asks, rather bluntly. “You stopped coming out of your room, and when you do, it’s just to fight. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m good. Great even.” She smiles.

“Do you think I’m a fool?”

Bloody hell.

Jane doesn’t want to hold this conversation, knowing that she has all the cards to lose it. But at the same time, she wishes to reach out, to explain what is going on. To say that she doesn’t know how to be angry, how to defy someone, how to speak up. All she knows is shouting, crying and hiding her real emotions.

She must conceal what she feels, to not let it show. The less she thinks, the less she feels, the less danger it represents. Jane can’t be the next one. If what happened to Aragon was an awful experience, where she couldn’t see her daughter or talk to her for the last years of her entire life, and Anne’s death was way worse, what is left for her? Torture worse than death.

“ Bonita, breathe with me.” Aragon commands, sitting a hand on Jane’s shoulder in an attempt to ground her. “Jane, breath in. Hold. Breath out.”

“Go away, Catherine, please . ” The queen begs.

“No. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you here, please .”

“I just want to help.” Catherine says, trying to get closer.

“Why don’t you try and help yourself first? I know I’m dumb, but even I can notice what you do, Catherine.” Her voice becomes steady. “Why are you so obsessed with fixing people? Is this because you couldn’t fix Mary from the monster she became?”

The venom in her words acts quickly, Catherine’s face changing in a few moments. First a pained expression, then developing hurt. She stands up from the bed, and Jane rage rises.

“Why can’t you just keep for yourself, Aragon?” She expels the name. “Is that because you don’t know us? Is this a trick? I know you loved him, is this your way to check us as competition? Or just because you want to see which one of us can take the blame for what happened with baby Mary?”

Catherine stays silent. Humble and loyal after all.

“I told you I wanted you gone.” Jane finishes.

“And I told you, you need help. You should seek it before it becomes too late.”

(…)

Jane’s son Edward was at best a useless boy-king, and at worst a divisive religious extremist who disinherited his sisters.

(…)

Maybe no other queen truly understands her.

Or maybe she doesn’t understand the others.

How Anne talks about her beheading makes it sound like a celebration, a great day everyone was looking forward. She talks about how people cheered, even if it sounds mostly like an old tale made by people who hated her. Jane doesn’t try to tell the truth. She hides it in her silence, just like she hid from Henry.

She should. She should make it better for Anne, but a part of her can’t do so. Can’t bring herself to tell the truth. To confront the other queen. She can’t break the need to be perfect, the need to be good, and innocent.

Talking to Boleyn would be an admission of guilt she is not ready to commit.

(…)

Jane Seymour fulfilled her most important duty as queen, but she was never crowned and died just twelve days after the long and arduous birth.

(…)

Catherine is distant, which shouldn’t surprise her.

Asking for help sounds like a trap. She can’t trust anyone. Even if she knows how much it would change things, even if she doesn’t feel like the queens would hate her or judge her, deep inside something tells her they will. And she can’t allow that.

She can’t break the idea of being perfect after fighting so much for it in the past.

(…)

The fact that she had died producing Henry’s only surviving male heir gave her a mythic near-martyr status in his eyes, and he would do creepy things like having her appear in a family portrait eight years after her death (and not even as a zombie or vampire, much to my dismay).

(…)

“Why are you here?” Her therapist asks.

Wasn’t being a reincarnated Tudor queen who died after giving birth to the next king of England enough reason to be?

“I think I’m having problems with being impulsive, and out of control, and managing my emotions.”

“Which emotions would this be?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s good that you are looking for help, Jane.” The woman says.

She takes the files and starts asking more questions, Jane finds herself being more honest than in a long time.

After the session she feels happier, lighter.

(…)

Let’s get down to business and look at just why Jane was in fact not a cute little wifey BUT a calculating master manipulator.

(…)

It doesn’t last long, and that is what hurts the most.

Feeling good for a moment just to then descend into the pain of unbelievable sadness that invades her. Not knowing how to handle it, making her go slowly mad.

It makes her think of her death.

Everything was good, happy, easy. But then it started going bad, failing. Her own body, organs shutting down, fever, agony. A pain in her chest that barely leaves her breathing. Death coming to her. And sometimes she feels it again.

Short, confused breath. A weight so heavy on her chest. Her thoughts all over the place. Death creeping on her. Her psychologist calls it a panic attack, stress coming to her. And she doesn’t know how to react to the idea that it’s just her brain. Drowning in thoughts, so deep that she can’t see the surface.

(…)

That’s two Queens brought back into the folds of power, a feat Jane achieved in just 6 months, thanks to her skill at manipulating Henry without him even realizing.

(…)

Anna doesn’t come to her, just the contrary. Jane tries to help.

Watching the queen crumbling down, makes her feel smaller. Just the contrary to her stage presence. This Anna is not partying, no joking. She is broken. Not a unidimensional character that they pull each night. Cleves has kept a mask for so long, that is just now breaking.

Jane can’t help but wonder if they all do. But it’s different. Jane had always been allowed to be sad, to cry, to be sensible and weak, while Anna never had that privilege. Each role assigned to them had their good and bad parts.

“We might not be great. I know I’m not. But we are here for you. We are all in this.”

“Do you really mean it?” The fourth queen asks.

She doesn’t doubt it. It’s just the way it worked, everyone had their places, what they tried to fulfil. It was harder on some of them. To keep or to destroy what they were. Create a new self being idyllic, impossible.

“Of course, I do.” Jane smiles.

(…)

Jane was not beautiful. She was not outspoken, or alluring, or exotic.

(…)

An article said he was sick for months. That he died slowly, painfully.

Her son had died when still young. And she never held his hand. She wonders if he was scared. If he thought what death might have felt like. Sometimes it keeps her up at night, her sick son who had to lay in a bed. Who she can’t help.

She wasn’t scared of death, as she never quite understood, fever coming to her, letting her slowly go. Making her confused, as she didn’t understand if she died until she came back.

What was better? To go without knowing or to stay knowing that the ultimate end is near?

Jane used to be catholic, used to devote herself to religion. But since she came back it all feels like a lie, an elaborated truth that kept her from making errors. Still, for his supposed last words, she hopes God had mercy on him.

(…)

Nobody wants an unfun queen.

(…)

“Jane, may I sit with you?”

The older nods, making space on the sofa. Katherine practically jumps to the spot but doesn’t relax until Jane opens her arms for the girl to get into the embrace. They stay like that for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s company.

They had managed to somehow have a good relationship. Maybe because Jane never feels as if Katherine judges. Maybe because Katherine never met her in life. Maybe because they know the least about their past. It somehow brings them closer.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” The third queen wonders.

She keeps in mind Aragon’s words, if Katherine feels safe enough, she will open up. Slowly the changes had been more noticeable, especially after starting therapy.

Maybe it’s the need to be a mother, maybe it’s just the way Katherine can charm anyone, with shy smiles and childish glee.

“I feel bad.” Katherine admits. “I… I have tried to ignore things and I just feel guilty about it.”

Jane nods, knowing what the feeling is about. Remorse is an even more common feeling in the queens’ household than it is probably in others.

Maybe they are both broken.

“What about?” She wonders.

Maybe it’s just meant to be.

“They beheaded the woman who helped me.” Katherine admits. “They beheaded her too.”

Maybe it’s because they both feel the blood on their hands.

“But it wasn’t your fault. You can’t make yourself responsible for others’ actions.” Jane confirms.

“I never cried. Since I came back, I never cried for her. I just pushed it to the back of my mind, acted as if it did not happen.” Her eyes water. “She died for me. And I am back, and she is not. I still don’t try to bring those memories back.”

“Some emotions need time.” The older one tries to explain. “Grief it’s not lineal, there’s denial, there’s guilt.”

“She didn’t deserve it.”

“You didn’t either. But you can honour her. We have a second chance, something impossible.”

“What are you using your second chance for?” Katherine wonders.

Jane doesn’t have an answer.

(…)

Jane Seymour: (shrug) enh.

(…)

Sometimes talking with fans is easier. They comment about the play with blissful glee, about the shiny costumes and loud music. Some go as far as making copies of her costume, to draw her, to write letters. They still don’t know her fully and they mostly don’t care to find out.

Jane can’t help but wonder if Edward ever felt love like that, blind, from someone who doesn’t know who you are. She can’t help but wonder what her son knew of her, because he never met her. She didn’t get to really meet him either, but she has Anna, who sometimes would drop a funny story of a young king, Katherine who remembers a little boy, and Catherine who talks about how smart he was.

She hopes that he had someone to tell him her story.

(…)

In her entire 18 months as queen, Jane Seymour failed to say one single thing that anybody thought was worth preserving for the future.

(…)

“Catherine, can we talk?” Jane asks.

The first queen nods sternly, sitting in front of her. Even though their relationship had been less tense since she started therapy a while ago, things were still not quite resolved within them.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Catherine starts. “I shouldn’t have pushed, specifically not when I told you not to push Katherine.”

“No, it’s alright.” The blonde smiles. “Katherine shouldn’t be pressured, that’s true. But we are different. I didn’t understand what you were trying to do but now I do. And I’m sorry. I have been realizing things slowly and it’s just a matter of time until I will feel better again.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” The first queen asks.

“It’s the idea of being perfect. To fill in my own shoes. To comply, and obey and serve. You knew me before, and you know me now, but I just feel so much responsibility to be who people think I am. I talk about how I stayed, firm by his side, but in reality, I didn’t. I was scared. I am scared. And it’s such a weird feeling, because it drives me to do the exact opposite thing of what I try to do. My death was just something that happened, but I can’t help and think that I was lucky to have died. Who knows what could’ve been of me otherwise?”

“You don’t have to be perfect.”

“But I do.” Jane replies. “It’s just my place, and I’m a character. I just have to learn where and when I should be myself.”

“Are you sure? No one is expecting anything.”

“They are. And it’s okay. They want it, the love story, the tragic ending. I wish it was like that, but it was not. But I’m going to be fine, because I’m pretty tough. And it doesn’t come from screaming, being the loudest or the most anything. It comes from me, and I don’t have to prove it to anyone else.”

(…)

Or, god forbid, are you a fan of the insufferable Jane Fucking Seymour?

(…)

“I might miss some foods from the past, but I love this.” Anne said happily, devouring some chocolate lentils.

“Stop it! I want some too.” Her almost namesake replied, trying to take some.

“Anna, don’t worry about chocolate and help me pick a movie.” Parr insists. “I saw that this one was good, this account said that they used a new kind of animation to do it. Created a new program and all.”

Jane smiles, laughing lightly at Catherine who can’t keep facts for herself. Each time it becomes better, less superior talking and more nerdy, passionate about useless knowledge.

“Whatever you choose, please let it be short, I’m so tired tonight.” Aragon asks.

“That one is ninety minutes long.” Katherine offers.

The third queen sits, gossiping about the plot

(…)

So, don’t overlook Jane. Sure she’s quiet, but remember it’s the quiet ones you have to watch.

(…)

Second chances were overrated, that much could be said for Jane Seymour.

Sometimes, people don’t change, themselves or their minds. In her two lives, she dealt with it all. With trying and not, with fighting and keeping quiet, with being looked up to and with being irrationally disliked. Society, as a whole, would never be pleased. Setting standards too high, as much as those vary from time to time, from one century to the other, there was always going to be something wrong.

But it didn’t mean she had to just follow it.

Second chances were overrated, wasting hers into demonstrating things to anyone except herself. The general opinion might not change, but Jane does. She learns, grows. She cries, gets sick and has horrible days, she fights, speaks out, she loves, she smiles. It’s hard, to live a life she shouldn’t have, but it means that is her opportunity, not to be revolutionary, not to be a queen nor a mother.

Jane learns to be herself, to explore, to know her limits. And it never ends.

Second chances were overrated, but it doesn’t mean that Jane was going to try and make the best out of hers.  Maybe it is boring, or naïve to not try to take an impossible opportunity, but she doesn’t need it. To be true to herself is more than just enough.

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 129: Digging Deep (Transcript) - 11th November, 2019

tw: ghosts, human remains

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

The construction was called to a stop the moment they found the bones. The work crew was preparing a building site along one of London’s many ancients streets when they uncovered what appeared to be a body – or, at least, the remains of one. It was clearly old, given that nothing but bones could be seen beneath the dirt, so a team of archaeologists was brought in to preserve and study the remains. In the end, they determined that the bones belonged to a teenage girl who had lived in London over 1600 years ago – a Roman girl. It’s not the last time something like that has happened in this city. During some development work near Spitalfields Market in the 1990s, a work crew uncovered what turned out to be an entire Roman cemetery. Among the finds was a perfectly preserved lead coffin, its lid covered in beautiful artwork that had been hammered right into the surface, still visible, all these centuries later.

And that’s the way history tends to work – time will bury it under new and current events. But if we dig deep enough, and brush away the soil, we can come face to face with it all over again. The past never truly goes away, after all. It’s there, waiting to be discovered, so that we can study it and relearn the stories it contains. Oftentimes, though, the things that leave the deepest marks tend to be the most tragic and painful, events that rattled people to their core and left a shadow on the history of a place that no amount of sunlight could ever chase away, and the older the city, the more common those shadows tend to be. Which is why I want to take you on a tour of one of the oldest, because while the past is always nearby in our modern world, few places allow it to dwell so close to the present as the city of London. Its past is both a treasury of historic significance and crypt full of the darkest tragedies we could ever imagine. Because in a city filled with so much light, there’s bound to be some shadows. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

 London is ancient, there’s really no other way to say it. Most Americans live in a community that’s less than 200 years old. If you’re in New England or one of the other places with roots in pre-colonial America, perhaps those locations go back a bit further, but London’s history makes all of those seem brand new by comparison. Archaeological work in London can place humans in the area as far back as 4500BC, but if we’re looking for a major settlement where it stands today, that didn’t happen until 47AD, when the Romans arrived and set up a community there that they called “Londinium”. Although from what we can tell, it didn’t last long, all thanks to a woman named Boudicca. As far as historians know, Boudicca was the wife of King Prasutagus, who ruled over an eastern British tribe known as the Iceni. When the Romans arrived in their territory in 43AD, they came to an arrangement with Prasutagus, allowing him to maintain control of his kingdom. When he died 17 years later, though, the Romans refused to acknowledge his widow as the new ruler, and instead invaded them to take the land for themselves. But they misjudged Boudica, assuming she was a quiet woman, incapable of ruling anything. Instead, she rallied a massive army of close to 100,000 warriors and then led them on a campaign against the Romans all over Britain. In 61AD, her army rolled over Londinium like a Sherman tank, burning the entire settlement to the ground. In fact, her campaign against them was so fierce and unstoppable that the Romans nearly left Britain altogether. But those who survived managed to rebuild, and within a handful of decades it had grown large enough to become capital of the entire province.

Over the years, the city continued to expand and mature, and even though the Romans left towards the beginning of the fifth century, the community there refused to die. By the 7th century, London had earned a reputation as a major trade centre, which brought in a steady flow of wealth and goods, and also turned the city into a political powerhouse. Of course, power and wealth has a way of making a community a target for others, and London was no exception. In 1066, William the Conqueror sailed across the English Channel and earned his nickname by taking control of the entire kingdom and making it his own – and, of course, special attention was paid to London. Within two decades, the population of the city had reached nearly 15,000, and by the 1300s that had multiplied to over 80,000.

But something unexpected was heading their way that would ravage that growing community, something mysterious and dangerous and seemingly unstoppable – the Black Death. What started as a plague in western Asia quickly spread to Europe, bringing death and destruction to every community it touched. By the time the Black Death had burned itself out, some historians estimate that upwards of two hundred million people were dead. The people of London lost at least 10,000 lives, most of whom were buried outside the city walls. It wouldn’t be the last time the city would face tragedy. In 1664, a fresh outbreak of the plague killed another 100,000 people, and then two years later, in September of 1666, a fire broke out in the house of a baker on Pudding Lane. It eventually spread west, destroying much of the city as it went, and while there were only six verified casualties, historians now think the fire burned hot enough to completely cremate those who were caught in it, making the true death toll anyone’s guess.

So much of London’s history was tragic and outside human control, but there have also been moments along the way that could only be blamed on the people who lived there. Jack the Ripper and the murders that took place in 1888 in the Whitechapel district of the city are always front and centre in most people’s minds. But there has been a lot more bloodshed than just those five innocent women. In fact, a lot of the city’s murder and violence could be found higher up the ladder, in the very chambers and homes of the people who held the power and wealth. It seemed that rather than being immune to the shadows that lingered in the city, even the powerful could fall under their spell. Because if there’s one thing the nobility of England’s past seem to attract more than anything else, it was pain and suffering and death.

 We don’t need to look far to find bloody nobles. It sometimes feels as though all we have to do is open a history book and flip it to a random page. Life at the top was often a cutthroat game, both figuratively and literally, and anyone who found themselves in the orbit of a king or queen certainly understood that risk. A great example of how blood-thirsty the English kings could be was Henry VIII. Henry is known for a lot of things, not all of which are so great in retrospect. He expanded the power of the crown during his lifetime and based a lot of that on his belief in the divine right of kings, something that threatened the freedom of his people. He was greedy and vindictive and had an ego that was only surpassed in size by the codpiece on his armour. But if there is one thing that most people remember today about Henry VIII, it’s his many wives. Henry had six of them, half of whom were named Catherine, which must have made it a lot easier for him, I’m sure. Five of those six wives came and went within a single 10-year period in his life, but not all of those breakups were friendly. After having his first marriage annulled in 1533 and sparking the English Reformation and the country’s separation from the Catholic church, Henry married the sister of a former lover, a women named Anne Boleyn. Three years later, he had her executed for treason and adultery, but also possibly for failing to deliver a male heir.

The day after Anne’s beheading, Henry proposed to one of her ladies in waiting, Jane Seymour. They had apparently fallen in love months before, but Jane had managed to hold off Henry’s advances in the name of honour. Once the queen was dead, though, she was much more agreeable. They were married 10 days later. From everything I can tell, Henry believed that Jane Seymour was “the one” – he viewed her as his perfect queen, and when she gave birth to his first male heir a year later, he probably sighed with relief. The complications from the birth put her life at risk, and over the two weeks that followed she slowly declined. In October of 1537, Jane Seymour passed away. That had taken place at Hampton Court Palace, Henry’s favourite London residence. It was a mixture of a pleasure palace, a theatre and a royal home, so when Henry brought his next two wives through those doors over the next few years, they were probably bittersweet moments. A lot of joy would be possible there, but it would also sit in the shadows of a painful past. His fifth wife, Catherine Howard, made a fool of the king by conducting at least one less-than-secret affair. After learning about what she had done, Henry had Catherine arrested and thrown in a prison cell there, at the house. She was only 18 at the time, and I can’t imagine the fear and desperation she must have felt, being a prisoner of the most powerful man in the kingdom.

According to the stories, though, Catherine managed to slip away from her guards one day, while being walked through the palace. She bolted away and ran down one of the long galleries that led to the king’s chapel, where she knew Henry could be found. Her goal was probably to beg for forgiveness, to ask for mercy and to plead for her life. But the guards caught up to her before that could happen, and her screams of terror were the only thing to reach him. Catherine Howard was beheaded a short while later, and Henry moved onto a new wife, also named Catherine. But just because those former wives were gone, doesn’t mean they were forgotten. In fact, if the stories are true, they might have stuck around to serve as a cruel reminder. It’s said that even today, visitors to that long gallery in the palace have heard echoes of a woman screaming, a desperate, panicked cry that chills them to the bones. Others have heard the quick rhythm of footsteps, as if someone were running down the hallway. And in 1999, according to one source, two different tourists fainted in the gallery at different times on the very same day.

Elsewhere in Hampton Court Palace, other shadows have stuck around as well. In a room at the top of the staircase known as Silver Stick Stairs, multiple visitors have claimed to have seen the figure of a pale women. She stands silently, hovering slightly above the floor, with a mournful expression and vacant eyes. For those who have witnessed it, the spectre has been both calming and terrifying. Whether or not the visions are real, though, it’s fascinating to look at the true history of that room, because while it has been used for countless purposes over the last few centuries, one specific resident stands out above all the others. It was in this room, you see, that Henry VIII’s only male heir was born to his true love, Jane Seymour, and it was there, just two weeks later, that she passed away.

 The old home, located on Berkeley Square, is a townhouse, just one of many in a long row of similar facades, but as far back as the mid-19th century, it was different enough to stand out from all the others. But before I continue with the legends, let me be clear that not a lot is known about the house’s origins, and a lot of stories have yet to be completely verified. Still, we know enough to make this a journey worth taking – so let’s get started. The majority of the tales begin with the man who owned the house back in the 1860s. Thomas Myers wasn’t the first to live there, but he was certainly the most infamous. It’s said that he had once been engaged to be married, but his fiancée eventually changed her mind and ended their relationship. Broken and distraught, he retreated into his house and was rarely ever seen again. Neighbours claim that the house would be dead during the day, only to come alive at night. It was as if Thomas had traded in the sunlight for the shadows, living the rest of his life during those moments when most of the world was asleep, and it might very well be whispers of the house all lit up at night that first gave birth to the rumour that it was haunted – but it could also have been what happened next.

Sometime around 1872, the house sold to a new family, and they moved in to clean up the home and make it their own. The couple had two daughters, both in their late teens, and there were precious few years left for the parents to enjoy life as a family in this new setting before they became empty-nesters. In the weeks that followed, though, the future crept in. The oldest of the two daughters became engaged to a young officer named Captain Kentfield, and conversation became filled with talk of wedding plans and guests lists. And at some point in their engagement, Captain Kentfield planned a visit, so the family set about preparing the attic bedroom for his arrival. According to the story, what happened next is still shrouded in mystery. The family maid was sent up to put the final touches on the fiancé’s room, and while she was up there, the family heard her scream. At once, everyone in the house rushed upstairs to see what had happened, only to find her lying on the floor, an expression of complete horror painted across her face. More mysterious yet was that she couldn’t seem to put a complete sentence together and was unable to answer any of the questions the family asked her. All the maid was able to do was mutter a low, cryptic refrain. “Don’t let it touch me. Don’t let it touch me”.

The maid was immediately taken to the hospital to recover, where I imagine someone observed her, and did their best to treat her rattled nerves, but other than that, there was little they could do. Sleep, they assumed, would be the best medicine. The following morning, though, she was found dead in her room. The fiancé arrived the next day, and after hearing the stories of the maid’s unexpected death, he decided to check the room out for himself. Maybe he was playing the brave soldier in front of his future in-laws in an effort to impress them, or perhaps his fiancée needed some reassurance and he wanted to calm her nerves. Whatever the reason, he climbed the stairs to the attic bedroom and declared that he would keep watch throughout the night. In the darkest hours of the morning, though, a gunshot pulled everyone from sleep, their hearts racing at the sound of it. Everyone climbed out of bed, threw on their night coats, and then rushed up to see what had happened. What they found, according to the legend, was the young captain, dead on the floor of his room, a victim of his own pistol.

In 1907, author Charles Harper wrote about the house in a book, and it was there that he declared it to be “the very picture of misery”. After the events that were said to have taken place there, it’s easy to wonder if the misery was in the structure or the lives who lived there. Either way, the stories we’ve heard so far shed a bright light on one more tale that Harper added to the legend. According to him, the next family to own the house moved in fully aware of the tragedies of the past. The owner was an older gentleman, who was said to be practical and not prone to stories of the supernatural. Still, he understood the power of suggestion a creepy old house with a dark past might have over him, so he set some rules for everyone to follow. After settling in with his family, he told them all that he would ring his bell to tell them if he ever truly needed help. If it was a moment of fright, he would only ring it once, which they were all instructed to ignore, but if matters were more pressing and he truly needed help, he would ring it twice, a signal that they were to immediately come to his room.

Everyone went to bed at the end of the evening, and while the night began peacefully, the quiet was broken around midnight by the loud chime of the old man’s bell, not once, but twice, which sent everyone rushing to see what might be the matter. What they found, though, weren’t answers. The old man was writhing in his bed, his face twisted by panic and fear. Just like the housemaid all those years before, he too couldn’t answer the questions that the others around him asked. He could only mutter and shake with horror at something no one else could see. After doing their best to help him, they calmed him enough to let him sleep, and everyone wandered back to their own rooms. They left his bell on the table beside his bed, hoping that he would remember how to use it if he needed them, but the remainder of the night was one, long stretch of unbroken silence. In the morning, they discovered why. After visiting the old man’s bedroom to check on him, one of his family members gently pushed the door open and peered inside. The shape in the bed was unmoving, and so they approached to wake him and see how he felt. But like those in the house before him, he too had passed away. A random coincidence of natural causes, or a demonstration of the power of fear?

 There’s a lot about London that seems to echo the atmosphere of the house at 50 Berkeley Square. It’s a city painted in shadows, but it’s unclear if that darkness was always there, or if we imported it over the centuries. What’s clear is that almost from the start, tragedy and suffering has been a resident of this ancient city. Right back to the invasion of Boudica, nearly 2000 years ago, and up to its most modern challenges, the city of London has had to suffer through quite a bit, and that has a way of leaving a mark. Over the centuries, though, the city has always found ways to move on. New layers are added all the time, building the present on top of the past and slowly burying one dark moment beneath another – which is probably why London is one of those places where new construction always seems to bump into ancient things. If you dig deep enough, you’re guaranteed to find something. And look – London is a massive city, and while I did my best to cover some of its larger and more powerful stories, there are hundreds more that I had to leave untouched. Honestly, if you want to visit a haunted location in the city, just visit a local pub, like the Ten Bells, or the Flask, or the Spaniard Inn. If the stories are true, you’ll find a lot more than a pint of ale waiting for you inside.

But if there’s one mark on the pages of London’s history that is bigger than most, it’s hard to deny the power of the plague. If you remember, when the wave of disease washed over the city in 1665, it took two years to run its course, and in the process, it claimed the lives of nearly 100,000 people, and that was a lot of tragedy to deal with – on the personal and the public level. The biggest problem seemed to be what to do with all those corpses. We’ve all seen films like Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and can all remember lines like “bring out your dead”, and from what we can tell, that’s pretty close to how it actually would have been, a steady, daily flow of bodies out of the city, away from the places where people lived in the hope that it would stop the spread of the disease. And most of the bodies were carried outside the city limits. One such burial location was started by the Earl of Craven, who purchased a parcel of land west of the city for disposal of plague victims, and every night, for months on end, carts filled with rotting corpses were wheeled out onto his land and then dumped into the pits there. Over time, the place became known as the “Pest House Field,” and later it was named Gelding Close, but to be honest, few people actually went there. They were too afraid of what might happen if they got too close to the body of a plague victim or, heaven forbid, accidentally touch one. So, the burial plot, like so many others around the city, became a sort of no man’s land.

After years of waiting, the owners of the land eventually made the decision to use the property for development. London was growing, and there would always be a need for a new neighbourhood to settle in, so it was sold in pieces and developed into homes for the wealthy and elite to move away from the centre of the city. Gelding Close eventually became known as Golden Square, and today it’s a prominent feature in the SoHo area of London. But even though the name has changed and the landscape around it has been transformed, the past is still there, lingering in the shadows of modern life. In fact, more than a few visitors to the park and buildings that surround it have bumped into the past in a very real way. A few have seen the figures of people dressed in old-fashioned clothing slipping through the square at night, while most have caught the sound of wailing, as if someone were enduring horrible pain and suffering. But it’s not the specific things people have heard over the years that are the most terrifying aspect to these stories. No, it’s where they all claim the voices have come from. The sounds, they say, seem to emanate from right beneath their feet.

A city as old and historic as London is guaranteed to have a library of mysterious shadows and otherworldly experiences and I hope today’s tour has been a satisfying dip into that enormous pond, but I’m not done just yet. There’s one more legend from the city that I absolutely love, and if you stick around through the sponsor break, I plan to tell you all about it.

[Sponsor break from the Great Courses Plus, Squarespace and Fracture]

When you think of London, it’s easy to think of money. As far back as the Roman period of the city, there has been an overt focus on the financial industry. In about 240AD, for example, the Romans constructed a mithraeum, a temple devoted to the god Mithras. Some of the most common members of the cult of Mithras were merchants, traders, customs officials and politicians, all professions that revolved around the flow of money. But it didn’t end with the Romans. As the centuries ticked by, the people of London found new and better ways to manage money and build the economy. In the year 1100, King Henry I instituted a new system of currency that even the most illiterate and uneducated citizens of his kingdom could understand: the tally stick. It was essentially a polished wooden rod that had nicks carved into it to denote its value, and it was then split down the middle. The king kept one half, while the other was put into circulation in places like the city markets, and that’s where the system really shined. If anyone tried to change the value of the public half by adding another nick, they just needed to be compared to the other half kept safe by the crown.

But at the end of the 17th century, one of the biggest changes to the financial world of London was born: The Bank of England. It was created in 1694 to solve a tricky financial problem the government of England faced. They needed to build a massive navy to defend themselves but lacked the funds to do it. So, an elaborate system of lending and currency came to the rescue. A century later, The Bank of England was simply a way of life for the people of London. It had all the prestige and power that you might expect from a government-backed bank and had established a reputation for itself that has carried into the 21st century.

But I don’t want to give you a tour of the bank’s full history, I just want to tell you about one of their employees, a man named Philip Whitehead. Whitehead worked in the cashier’s office of The Bank of England in 1811. Everyone around him viewed him as a pillar of the establishment, a hard-working, respectable man who was charming and delightful with staff and customers alike. Except that’s not all he was. Philip was also a criminal. It turns out he had been forging bank documents for months, cheating the bank out of a slow trickle of money, and at some point in 1911, his misdeeds were discovered, and he was quickly arrested and sent off to prison. A few months later, in early 1812, Philip Whitehead hanged for his crimes, and the bank moved on.

Several weeks after Philip’s hanging, though, a woman came into the bank asking for him. She said her name was Sarah, but when she asked to speak with Philip Whitehead, she was simply told that he was out of the office on a business errand. The woman left disappointed but promised to be back at another time. The next time that she returned, he not only told them that her name was Sarah, but that she was Philip’s sister. She told them of how she had lost touch with her brother many months earlier, and that she had been desperate to find a way to reach him, and at some point, her story must have plucked at the heartstrings of just the right bank employee, because one of the men took her aside and told her the truth. Her brother was dead. It wouldn’t be Sarah’s last visit to the bank, though. The next time she returned, she was dressed all in black, with a black veil that covered her face.

She stepped into the lobby of the bank and asked to see her brother. Taking pity on the poor woman, and official at the bank pulled her aside, apologised for keeping his imprisonment and execution a secret, and offered a small settlement. It was a pay-off, of course, designed to keep her from disturbing the other customers, but I’m sure he sold it to her more as a salve for her aching heart. Either way, she accepted the money and then left. But she returned a few days later. Over and over again, Sarah Whitehead visited the bank, each time dressed in that black gown and veil. At first, her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but with each new visit her question became louder and more aggressive – “Where is my brother?” she continued to ask. Each of those visits ended with another small payment from the bank, but they weren’t a charity house, and eventually decided that enough was enough.

Pulling her aside one day, they handed her a massive settlement and told her never to return, and to her credit, Sarah Whitehead listened. She never again set foot inside the bank, although it’s said that she also never wore anything else but that black gown and dark veil. We don’t know how long Sarah lived after that – sometimes grief has a way of speeding up a person’s decline, while other times it seems to give them a reason to go on. But decades later, Sarah passed away, having spent the remainder of her life in a constant state of mourning for her dead brother. Legend says that the churchyard she chose for her burial was the one right next door to the bank. Maybe she wanted to keep an eye on them from the other world, or perhaps it just happened to be where she attended church. I like to think that it was the former, and that those that still worked at the bank and knew her story were aware of where she was buried. It’s very poetic, whether or not it was actually true.

But her story doesn’t end there, of course. In the years following Sarah Whitehead’s death, employees inside the bank began to report seeing strange things. Oftentimes it was nothing more than a movement, just out of their field of vision, caught in the corner of their eye but never there when they turned their head. Other times, it was the fleeting vision of something black and shadowy. Many who have worked in the bank claim that certain areas give them a feeling of hopelessness and despair, and on rare occasions some claim that a mysterious shape has even materialised right before their eyes. All of them have described it in the same way, too, giving the old stories new life as the decades have passed by. They say the shape is that of a woman. Each time she appears, her pale skin is framed by a dress as black as coal, the veil that had once covered her face pulled back to revealed twisted lips, red cheeks and eyes that seem to glow like fire. But it’s the words she speaks that frighten people the most. After locking eyes with them and washing them in a wave of terror, the women in black repeats the same words she had grown so accustomed to in life. “Where,” she asks them, “is my brother?”

[Closing Statements]

[theangryhistoriananna]

Tell me ALL about Jane Boleyn, I have to be at work in the morning and I want to procrastinate going to sleep Educate Me Please

Listen Jane Boleyn was a goddamn queen who did NOT deserve to be dragged like she was. 

-Jane Boleyn was considered extremely beautiful by 16th century English standards. We can pretty safely say this because she was picked repeatedly to show off in front of foreign ambassadors. The most notable being that she was chosen to take to France for the infamous Field of the Cloth of Gold AND not long after she was again picked to fill the role of Constancy in Chateau Vert. We also know that Anne picked her again to join her in a masque to impress Francis and the French nobles 

-Apart from being pretty the above examples also suggest she was rather accomplished in dancing. 

-Jane Parker was a distant cousin of Henry’s, and her father Henry Parker the Elder had been under the care of Margaret Beaufort who took an interest in him, promoting his interests, safe guarding his inheritance after his widowed mother remarried to a Howard, and promoted his match with Alice St. John-Jane’s mother. 

-Jane had several brothers and sisters, but as far as we can tell, only two made it to adulthood-her sister Margaret who married John Shelton and whose decedent once incurred Elizabeth’s wrath when she married without seeking her consent first and her brother Henry Parker the younger whose own son refused to swear to the Act of Supremacy and was promptly sent into exile for it. While Jane kept her religious views to herself, we know Henry was an avid supporter of the Reformation. Her father on the other hand was a Catholic.

-Jane had been in the service of Katherine of Aragon for some years before marrying George. We don’t know exactly WHEN Jane arrived at court, but probably before 1523. Cavendish, in his poem, mentions she had been brought up at court since a young age-though girls were not allowed to serve as Maids till they were thirteen. 

-Jane was most likely 19/20 when she married George. It is believed she was of an age with him, her birth date usually stated as being 1505, a year after George’s usually stated birth date. 

-Both George AND Jane were listed as being particular favorites of Katherine of Aragon and Henry VIII by Wolsey. 

-We don’t know exactly when but it seems Jane left Katherine of Aragon’s service sometime after Anne was formally recognized and joined her sister-in-law’s service. One could argue this was simply because she was considered Anne’s family, but given that several members of Anne’s family were left out of Anne’s service or stubbornly stuck by Katherine (chief being Norfolk’s wife) it’s equally plausible Jane was legitimately loyal to Anne. 

-While Anne was at her height in power, Jane was given a great deal of respect and dignity and featured as one of Anne’s foremost ladies, alongside Anne’s cousin Mary Howard, and Anne’s sister Mary Boleyn. Again Anne seems to have favored and preferred her family members, and Jane-as George’s wife-would have been viewed as much her family as Mary was. 

-Jane was a patroness who financially supported at least one religious man, and sought out positions for him to fill. 

-During Anne’s coronation march Jane was given a spot of the highest honor, allowed to ride directly behind Anne, with the kingdom’s most powerful and noted women, far above what her station as Viscountess afforded her. This was no small gesture, and it was likely very deliberate on Anne’s part. By placing her sister in law with the ranks of such women as the Duchess of Richmond, she was stating that Jane was now a woman of influence and should be treated with the highest regard. 

-According to Chapuys, Jane was banished once while attempting to help Anne get rid of a young woman who had caught Henry’s eye and had shown sympathies to Mary. Chapuys doesn’t report what Jane did specifically, only stating that it had been done in collaboration with Anne. Jane rarely pops up in Chapuys’ dispatches but when they do, it should be noted that he painted her as being in league with the Boleyns, not against them. 

-Jane wrote to George while he was in France. We don’t know what she said, for her letters don’t survive, but they are referenced by Anne’s chamberlain, who refrained from telling George in his own letter about a situation with Suffolk because he was sure Jane had already told him in hers. 

-Apparently it was to Jane, not George, that Anne uttered her infamous statement about her husband suffering from erectile dysfunction (and not being able to please her) While many historians have erroneously stated it was to George who she said this to, that’s a falsehood probably coming about because it was at George’s trial that the statement was used-suggesting that Jane had probably confided in her husband what Anne had said. 

-Also despite what some historians say it was not said that Jane told Cromwell that George laughed at the way the King dressed. The statement that George had done so cropped up immediately after the statement about what Anne had told Jane  in Chapuy’s report on George’s trial, leading for many people to scrunch the two statements together. 

-There isn’t much evidence that Jane Boleyn was the sole informant against her husband and sister in law. Most everyone who was actually present at the trials mention many other women by name as being responsible, but Jane is never one of the names given. Jane’s name never even cropped up on the list of suspects till decades after her death. 

-Three days after George’s arrest, Jane was allowed to get a short message to her husband in the tower-an impressive feat since communication was strictly forbidden between the arrested and their families. She wasn’t allowed to give the message herself but it was delivered to George by two political enemies of the Boleyns’. Ives and other historians have stated that the messengers were proof that Jane had had malicious intentions in her message, but more likely the choice of messengers was made by Henry and Cromwell, and that Jane had absolutely no say in the matter. The exact wording of the message is lost to us but we know from Kingston that it more or less asked after his well being and promised to petition Henry on his behalf. George is recorded as having asked the messengers to send her his thanks. While briefly he appeared comforted by the message we know a short while later he broke down into tears. People don’t give the fact that Jane not only managed to but even ATTEMPTED AT ALL to reach out to her husband enough credit. Jane didn’t leave George to his fate like the rest of his family seemed to do, she was the only one who came closest to doing what we often have Mary doing in alot of popular Tudor fiction: trying to help her family. 

-According to one historian, Jane made a pubic sign of sympathy for her husband. 

-After George’s execution Jane fell on financially hard times, made even worse because Thomas Boleyn refused to pay the proper amount due to her via her jointure. Infuriated she wrote to Thomas Cromwell complaining and asking him to help her get Thomas Boleyn to cough it up, and asking if Cromwell would return to her George’s plate as it would be a great comfort to her. 

-She fucking wrested her marriage bed back from Henry. Jane Boleyn was a badass in her own way. 

-Jane wore widow reeds for the rest of her life, and notably after 1536 only ever wore black (as opposed to before 1536 when she had a very colorful wardrobe). As has been pointed out before this doesn’t necessarily mean she was wearing it in mourning, but it should be noted Cavendish called her a widow “woe-begone in black” 

-She was listed as being a chief mourner for Jane Seymour at her funeral. 

-Princess Mary paid for repairs to Jane’s windows once, and on occasion gave her ladies’ money. 

-Jane is one of the ladies recorded as having the infamous conversation with Anne of Cleves regarding  her sex life (or lack of) with Henry. It was Jane Boleyn who was recorded as declaring “I do believe her majesty is a maid still!” 

-According to Katherine Howard, once Jane tried to leave her and Culpepper alone and Katherine had to call her back and reprimand her for neglecting her duties. 

-It was reportedly either Jane Boleyn who called Culpepper a sweet little fool, or Culpepper who called Katherine Howard that. 

-Jane stated in the interrogations that she fell asleep during Culpepper and Katherine’s meeting, but this is likely a lie 

-According to Katherine Howard, Jane was recorded as coaching her on how to handle the interrogators, and promised her she’d never reveal what had happened “to be torn with wild horses” 

-Jane most likely suffered from a nervous breakdown after her arrest, which Chapuys and other referred to as her “going mad”. She was taken from the tower and given to the constable and his wife to nurse. Henry even sent his own doctors to take care of her. Jane went through periods of “lucidity” at this time which is when they were able to interrogate her. 

-According to Chapuys’ upon hearing that she was to die Jane regained her “sanity” (most likely her composure) 

-Jane died after her mistress Katherine Howard, as the highest ranking was always executed first. Jane apparently made a speech, though there are conflicting tales about it’s length. Chapuys’ states she and Katherine both were to nervous to say much, but the French ambassador stated that it was Katherine who was relatively quiet while Jane made a lengthy speech. Otwell Johnson, in a letter to his brother, states that both women died with such dignity and bravery that he had no doubt both women were in heaven. 

-Jane’s body was found in Victorian times and given a proper burial and a marker which can be seen today on the chapel floor.

-Jane’s name is also listed on the monument on the tower green alongside Katherine, Anne and Margaret Pole. It’s touching that despite her nasty legend and reputation she has still been given proper respect and attention in monuments.  

-Far from being what we often see in media and in some non fiction depictions, Jane was not a vile bitter harpy desperate for revenge or hell bent on mischief. The Jane of records was a Jane who was loyal, charming, affable, and well liked, who wasn’t afraid to assert and fight for what she thought was hers by right, and who could not just survive but thrive in the courts of five very different women. Who succeeded despite the odds being stacked against her. The Jane of the records feels very much like a real human woman, not a cartoon villain. 

[lvstparty]

{ lili reinhart, cis woman, she/her } i’m sure you’ve seen ( olivia seymour ) around ivywood. she is ( twenty-three ) years old and are a ( personal assistant ). i’ve heard a rumor that she is a huge fan of ( romantic comedies, classic literature & musicals ) and have a tendency to be ( nurturing & gentle ) and ( clumsy & reserved ).

liv is based on jane seymour, the third wife of king henry viii.  she’s known as the ‘  only one he truly loved  ’ because she was able to finally give him a male heir after his previous two wives only have him daughters.  unfortunately, she died in childbirth and never got to see her son grow up.

olivia was always a pretty kind woman, often known as the ‘mom friend’ in her friend group, which was a bit of irony that we’ll get into later.  one day, she met a guy that swept her off her feet, and being the hopeless romantic that she is, she fell hard and fast.

they were together for a few months when it was revealed that she was pregnant with his child.  ever the optimist, she thought that he would be thrilled with the news and they’d raise their child together.

of course, he was a douchebag, so this wasn’t the case.  as soon as she told him the news, he basically declared that she was dead to him and cut off all ties, leaving her to raise their son on her own.

she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who she named edward, or eddie for short.  he’s now two years old and is the absolute light of her life

she works as a personal assistant (so if any muses needs one hmu, first come first serve) so she can make ends meet for her and eddie

[waterlilyvioletfog]

Rhaegar Targaryen was a Dick

Using real life, historical evidence, and based on what we know for sure (and also some speculation on what we don’t) (and also some things that I’ve seen most fans of the series agree as canon ex. KotLT was Lyanna). Oh, and by the way, SPOILERS.

DISCLAIMER: I love Jon Snow. He’s arguably my favorite character, both in the show and in the books. He’s intelligent, kind, honorable, and good (and far smarter in the books by the way) and I do agree that after the life he has had, Jon deserves everything he’s ever wanted. Jon, Sansa, Gilly, Davos, Grey Worm, and Missandei- they all deserve the Iron Throne. They deserve that after having such absolutely SHITTY lives. I am also pretty much a member of the Lyanna Stark Protection Squad. She’s blameless in all of the events in my eyes. She’s a teenager, for fuck’s sake, she goes with Rhaegar when she’s FIFTEEN years old, for Christ’s sake, and she gets WAY in over her head. Cut her some slack- in America, she wouldn’t have been able to vote, smoke cigarettes, or get drunk. She was not in any way responsible for the events that unfolded in her life. This is my stance on BOTH of these characters until there is sufficient evidence disproving my claims. MOVING ON. 

This past Sunday’s episode included a crucial scene where Gilly is reading from a book of an old maester, who wrote down everything because y’know, that’s the job of maesters. Fact. She asks Sam what an “annulment” means. He tells her, and it’s clear that he’s not really listening because he interrupts her sharing crucial information for the future of the show: this maester gave Rhaegar Targaryen an annulment on his marriage to Elia Martell, then in a secret ceremony in Dorne remarried him to “someone else.” Gilly never explicitly states the name of the other woman, but we can infer that the “someone else” is Lyanna Stark, who was revealed to be the mother of Jon Snow in the season six finale. Ergo, we can safely conclude that Lyanna Stark found out that she was pregant, told Rhaegar, they got married, and eventually Jon was born. (Actually she might have gotten pregant after the ceremony, but regardless. Something like that.)

While many fans (including myself) were screaming with joy at the thought that Jon is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms (moreso than Dany, actually, because of the male primogeniture rule that most monarchies work with) others expressed rage at the thought of Elia Martell, Rhaegar’s wife, with whom he had two children, being set aside.  And rightfully so. 

YES, it is pretty widely understood that Princess Elia of Sunspear and Crown Prince Rhaegar were not in love. It was an arranged marriage, devised by the mad king. They were married at twenty and twenty-three, when all other options (in the eyes of Aerys) were either unacceptable or non-existent. Under ordinary circumstances (hell even in our universe) the annulment would’ve been perfectly acceptable. Their marriage was amicable, but divorce is always an acceptable alternative. I’m not saying that the divorce was bad. Hell no, it was probably a good thing. But the consequences of Rhaegar’s actions mean that the many people see that Rhaegar was a dick who screwed over his wife and kids. 

Through out Robert’s Rebellion, the Dornish fought with the Targaryen forces, knowing that if they did not, their beloved princess and her children (three years old and an infant) could easily be disposed of. Yes, the war basically started when Rhaegar kidnapped (we now know actually ran away with) Lyanna, “Shaming Elia” in the eyes of many, but that didn’t matter. Elia was in King’s Landing. Elia, beloved by her people, could not be risked. 

And oh, yeah, sure, Elia might have known that she and Rhaegar were divorced, but it is doubtful, but there is very little reason to believe that she was okay with it. Since, you know. She was still a hostage, and you might as well be destined to be queen if you’re gonna be a hostage. (Note that Targaryens were cool with polygamy so actually Rhaegar didn’t have to divorce Elia at all but whatever showrunners, we’ll ignore that for now.)

Remember that whole “Tyrion’s on trial for Joffrey’s murder” thing? And how Tyrion demanded a trial by combat in that awesome scene? And how Oberyn Martell volunteered as tribute to be Tyrion’s champion so he could avenge his sister Elia Martell and her children? And how that got Oberyn killed? And the insuing Dorne plot, which we all hated? Yeah. You do. 

Oberyn Martell needed to avenge the deaths of Elia Martell and her children due to Rhaegar’s actions; he and his father started the war, Elia and her children paid the price alongside them. 

So, after abandoning Lyanna in the Tower of Joy, Rhaegar proceeded to be murdered by Robert Baratheon. The Lannisters, figuring that “Yeah, the Targs are screwed” decided to march to King’s Landing and clear the way for the Baratheon forces. This was called the Sack of King’s Landing. 

Tywin Lannister, hoping to curry favor with Robert, sent on a couple of his goons (including the Mountain, Ser Gregor Clegane) to go kill Elia and her kids. Cause y’know. Tywin was a Bad Dude. 

Rhaenys Targaryen, age 3, was stabbed multiple times. Aegon Targaryen, who was even younger, was thrown against a stone wall. Elia Martell, at this point not even the wife of Rhaegar, was raped with the blood of her son still on her rapist’s hands, and had her skull crushed in. 

But here’s the thing: Sunday’s episode says that these deaths were pointless. Those weren’t Targaryen deaths. 

We can infer this using real life history. 

Back up a second, to King Henry VIII of England. The dude who had six wives. Yeah, him. 

King Henry’s first wife was Catherine of Aragon. Catherine was the Princess of Spain, and it was an arranged, political marriage. She was beloved by the people, and was certainly the longest marriage Henry had. They were married for nearly twenty years, but she only gave him one living child: a daughter, Mary. Henry couldn’t have that. He needed a legitimate heir. A son. 

Henry looked around his court, and lo and behold, his eyes fell upon Anne Boleyn, the daughter of an important emissary. She was feisty, tempramental, and extremely intelligent. She was unwed, and younger than Catherine, and soon Henry came to the conclusion that shit would need to go down so they could be married. 

So, Henry split off from the Roman Catholic Church and created the Anglican Church, which at the time was basically the same thing as Catholicism, but whatever, that’s not relevant. Henry could divorce his wife, and so he did. Meanwhile, he and Anne ran off to get married in a secret wedding (NOTE THAT CATHERINE PROBABLY HAD NO IDEA OF ALL OF THIS BEING A THING THAT WAS GOING ON), and she got IMMEDIATELY PREGNANT, so they had another  secret wedding, and then finally he and Catherine were officially divorced, so Henry and Anne had NOT secret wedding, blah blah corronation blah blah blah, out pops the baby. 

Oh, and while all the secret weddings and pregnancies were going on, Henry made his legitimate daughter, Mary, sign a contract that essentially said “My dad is a certified dick, but he believes in the power of true love to grant him the kid he needs, so I, after being a princess for all thirteen years of my life, do rescind my princess-hood and declare that I am a bastard. I have no (ZERO) claim to the throne, etc etc etc wow my dad was a dick.” 

When Henry got bored with Anne’s feisty, intellectual, quick-tempered-ness, he had her beheaded and made their daughter Elizabeth sign the same contract so that he could marry Jane Seymour, the only one of his wives to actually give him a son (though she, like Lyanna died from birthing fever). 

So, to sum up: THE PARALLELS BETWEEN RHAEGAR AND KING HENRY, ELIA AND CATHERINE, AND LYANNA AND ANNE ARE UNDENIABLE. 

Both Henry and Rhaegar were obsessed with having children (Henry a son and Rhaegar a second daughter) and both, upon receiving the information that their current wives were incapable of giving them more children, turned to the young women who were available. Henry chose the feisty, temperamental, quick-witted ANNE, a daughter of an important emissary, younger than his current wife, and Rhaegar chose the feisty, temperamental, sword-wielding LYANNA (c’mon, you get what I’m getting at with Anne and Lyanna being kinda the same, right?) the daughter of an important lord, younger than his current wife. Both married their respective second wives in secret ceremonies, either immediately before or after said wife becomes pregnant. Catherine and Elia, two “foreign” princesses (many people have noted the vaguely Spanish tinge to Dorne, in the show at the very least) who were beloved by their people, who gave their slightly unhinged husbands legitimate children, and who were set aside due to an inability to give said husband the child he needed. Both were divorced from their husbands, likely largely against their wills and without knowledge of it, and after each had been set aside, it was all for naught: Lyanna couldn’t give Rhaegar his Visenya, just as Anne couldn’t give Henry a son. Considering these parallels, it is not beyond the scope of the imagination that Rhaegar could also have had Rhaenys and Aegon made bastards, especially since we know from the books that Lyanna didn’t like the idea of Robert having children with women other than her! This means that the death of Elia, already being pointless, is now complemented by the pointless deaths of her two innocent children. 

That’s my two cents on why Rhaegar is a dick. 

[mermaidsirennikita]

I love katherine of aragon and anne boleyn and will not pick one over the other but anne was such a bitch sometimes that was unnecessary yikes. how much do you think her force of character influenced her own fall? bc it was a hell of a strong character. thanks in advance for answering me!!

I wouldn’t call her a bitch at all--I’d call her a woman of her time.  I mean, we also don’t know exactly how much of what’s been attributed her was really her.  For example, she’s blamed a lot for the way Mary was treated; personally, I find it hard to believe that someone as savvy as Anne wouldn’t have perhaps wanted Mary (with her Spanish blood and Catholic support) in the background.  But we don’t know exactly how much she influenced Henry in that regard, and at the end of the day HE made the decision to shut his daughter away, to treat Catherine of Aragon like shit, and to continue to treat Mary like shit well after Anne died.

We also have to understand that Anne was under incredible stress and pressure.  She was constantly under pressure to provide an heir, act the Extra Perfect queen to counteract the fact that she wasn’t a Catholic queen and wasn’t pedigreed like Catherine, and all of the other reasons that people hated her.  And when she failed to provide an heir, that contributed to her mental decline.  She didn’t have a surplus of friends at court, though she certainly had her supporters.  She went through three or four pregnancies, depending on who you ask, in less than four years.  That alone placed a huge amount of mental and physical stress on her, and I think it’s important to note that while queens of the sixteenth century certainly viewed miscarriages as not only the loss of a baby but a lost opportunity for an heir/spare, they were still miscarriages, which typically bring with them depression and grief.  Tbh, it’s a testament to Catherine of Aragon’s upbringing that she wasn’t a wreck considering her numerous stillbirths, miscarriages, and babies who died shortly after birth.

Anne did not have that upbringing, and I think that what she did to contribute to her fall (because she definitely made missteps) can be credited to that as much as her natural temperament.  I would never call Anne perfect, and I think she was a naturally shrewd, cutting person.  As someone who can do the whole “wittily and snarkily charm a room” thing when called upon, I think the flipside is usually that when you’re stressed or upset you can be quite mean, at least verbally.  The thing is that a queen like Catherine of Aragon or say, Catherine de’ Medici would know when to put their tongues away and hold their cards.   I always refer to Sarah Gristwood’s interpretation of Anne in “Game of Queens” when I think of this.  She did not have the political acumen that some think she did--and she wouldn’t have, growing up as a nobleman’s daughter in England, with no major political match in sight.  She could absolutely charm, was totally intelligent--but she didn’t know when to keep her head down.  She was more socially savvy, I think, than politically savvy--if she’d had time, maybe she would have learned to bite her tongue.  The comment she made to Henry Norris about looking for dead men’s boots, or whatever, was hugely inappropriate and gave people like Cromwell ammo.  She allegedly made comments about Henry’s impotence too--a big no-no.  Even freaking out at the sight of Jane Seymour on her husband’s knee, as understandable as it was, was probably not the right move at that moment.  

Honestly, Anne could have been a perfect wife, and if Henry thought she wasn’t going to give him a son, he would have gotten rid of her one way or another.  But it’s true that some aspects of her character contributed to her falling in the way that she did.  Does this remotely mean she was guilty?  No, and I think a lot of people knew that even back then.  But anything that indiscreet put her in danger not simply of having her marriage annulled, but of being executed.  WITH ALL THIS BEING SAID: I don’t know if Henry and his cronies would have gone ahead and had her executed anyway if she had held her tongue and given them zero verbal  pieces of “evidence”, because the charges were bullshit and some of the people they threw in with her (like her brother George) were obviously just people they wanted to get rid of anyway.  And in general, the entire trial was a clusterfuck so it’s possible that Cromwell would have moved for accusing her of witchcraft, incest, adultery, et. al. either way just to make sure she was gone for good.  But idk, I’m torn as to whether or not Anne’s character made them think “kill her” versus “put her away”.  Because maybe if she hadn’t been so strong-willed, they wouldn’t have worried about her messing around after being put in a convent?  But really, how much damage could she have done if they’d left her alive?  It’s possible that she stood a threat to whichever queen and heir came next simply because some, like Cranmer, associated her with the break from the Catholic Church.  It’s very confusing to me.  But yeah, no matter what, Anne didn’t play her cards right at the end, and understandably so--but it aided in her fall.

This was rambling, hope you liked it!

[minervacasterly]

Book Review of The Sisters Who Would be Queen by Leanda de Lisle

The myth of Bloody Mary and Lady Jane Grey is one that riles me up every time people act like know-it-alls and say "but that is what everyone knows, I know that is how it went." Check a history book honeys *tosses a book at them and kicks them out the door*. If you want to instruct yourself, really instruct yourself, and not just be an annoying know-it-all who I bet has not gone beyond two or three books in the Tudor period (and to know more about the Tudor period you have read more than three books, you have to have read at least ten and more than fifteen journal articles and that is a small amount, and they have to come from different authors and show different perspectives otherwise get out of here and say goodbye to your human intelligence) and goes around sites telling adminis. and people what they are saying is wrong and the Tudors are everything they show on TV or in high school books. One of these books that does a lot to debunk this nonsense is Sisters Who Would Be Queen by Leanda de Lisle. If you haven't read it and only know what others have said, then don't bother to comment. Read the book first and other blog posts from this author and other authorities on the subject of the Grey sisters. There is a lot we don't know about this period that Leanda clarifies, and even less about the Grey sisters. First off she debunks the stupid notion that they were physically and psychologically abused by their cruel parents, the monstrous ugly chicken faced Frances Brandon and their power hungry father Henry Grey. Their parents were nothing like that and the only time that Jane complained to her tutors was after her parents had scolded her and as you would expect from kids after their parents ground them, she exaggerated things. Nevertheless, Jane was the pearl of their parents' world and there is never any indication whatsoever that her parents hated her or berated her for not being born a male. Frances and Henry would've loved the idea of having a boy but when they realized they weren't going to have anymore children, they invested all of their hopes on Jane and so Jane was naturally their favorite of all the three sisters. That doesn't mean the others were neglected. Far from it! Leanda explains how the girls received top rate education fit for princesses and how the girls always got the most expensive gifts and while Jane was more bookish than her younger sisters, she still invested a lot on clothes and jewelry and she got a lot of her style from Catherine Parr from whom she also shared a passion for knowledge and the same religion. After Catherine died leaving her husband with a baby daughter to take care of, Thomas began conspiring with the Greys and Dudleys to keep Jane with him, something that Henry and Frances were reluctant to do but agreed nonetheless until things got too dangerous and she returned to her parents. Thomas intentions were to marry her to the king, and that way to keep his brother from gaining more power. And while Thomas Seymour's actions were rash, they weren't any different from others at this time. In fact quite logical taking into account his brother was just as power hungry and while very loved by the common people and did a lot to help them, he had no respect for the upper class and one time slapped one of them in public and humiliated him more! It is small wonder why the nobility was siding with his brother but Ned found about his plans and just like Thomas, tried to use Jane against his enemies. He proposed a marriage between his eldest son by his second marriage to Jane, something that her father didn't agree on even after Thomas Seymour was executed. After Ned Seymour was executed, not long after his brother, the Grey and Dudley family became closer and to solidify their union, they married Jane to Guildford. A lot of seventeenth and nineteenth century myths have Jane screaming and crying, begging her parents not to marry her but she never did this. In fact she welcomed the marriage because that fit into the mold of the good Christian woman she was supposed to be and to the end of her days she continued to sign her name Jane Dudley instead of Jane Grey and refer to herself proudly as the wife of Guildford Dudley. She wasn't a quiet girl either. She urged her father many times when Mary's forces were closing on them, to go out there and fight like her father in law, John Dudley was doing and when her father refused she chastised him. She was very angry how things came about and berated all of her friends and family for converting to Catholicism and called her former tutor "imp of the devil" and called on the people of England to rise up in arms against the papists, adding that this was a holy war. Her letter to her father was much more calmer and affectionate which says they got along very well. Her execution was a sad ordeal, so was her father's and husband's. The rest of the book focuses on her two sisters, Katherine and Mary, both who suffered more than Jane because their suffering was prolonged by Elizabeth I's paranoia that if they had children then they would be used to overthrow her. Elizabeth I had good reason to fear them but it doesn't make their fates any less tragic. Katherine was prohibited to marry and Elizabeth kept under a strict watch and eyed her with great contempt for her lineage and when she did marry her, she locked both her and her husband (Edward Seymour -the Protector's eldest son who ironically was meant for her sister) in the tower where Katherine gave birth under terrible conditions. She didn't enjoy the great comforts her sister Jane was given when Mary I put her in the tower. She was in not prepared to give birth under such conditions and yet she did. Afterwards she and Edward found a way to see each other again and she conceived and this made Elizabeth angrier. Both children were healthy but in marrying and producing sons she had sealed her fate. When she couldn't handle her imprisoned life -she was moved around constantly, after the tower to better lodgings but not fit for a woman her station- she finally gave in and her captors wrote to Cecil how they feared she would take her life, something she didn't do but she died of depression not long after. Mary Grey fared no better, she thought she could do better if she married beneath her station like her mother had done but it didn't. Elizabeth kept her under a house arrest worse than her late sister and she died sick and sad not long after Katherine. This is the story of the real Grey sisters and it is not a fairy tale and it has no happy ending. I learned so much from this book and anyone who is interested in a fair and detailed account of their lives should read this book.