“Mantel’s historical inaccuracy stems more from what she leaves out of her books rather than from what she puts in,” Clare Cherry, co-author of George Boleyn: Tudor Poet, Courtier & Diplomat observes. “By disingenuously leaving out certain facts and situations she is able to manipulate her version of history in order to meet the requirements of her narrative. For example, leaving out the fact that Cromwell praised George Boleyn’s ‘sense, wit and courage’ enables Mantel to portray George as a coward at his trial. There are many other examples of this, including conveniently overlooking the real reason for Anne’s fall out with Cromwell. To have Anne argue that the money from the dissolution of the monasteries should be used for charitable purposes would fly in the face of Mantel’s characterisation of Anne”. 

Been thinking more about this quote/observation…

I don’t agree with every point made, or every opinion, in the article this is from, but I would say it’s very well-written nevertheless.  

Had it been my own work, this is probably the point at where I would expand on how, in Tudor fiction (including Mantel’s), including television adaptations, “what is left out” not only influences how we view Anne Boleyn as a person, but how we view how others viewed her, her life, and her death. 

Anne’s trial scene is included in the tv adaptation of Wolf Hall; with some accuracies intact, and some embellishments made. The embellishments made (”did you affirm, that you could never love the king, in your heart?”), however, are not nearly as significant as what is left out in this scene:

– Thomas Howard, the uncle of Anne Boleyn (who had many quarrels with her in the past), had tears running down his face when he pronounced her sentence. 

–  “The Earl of Northumberland, collapsed and had to be carried from the hall” when the sentence was read.”

– “The Lord Mayor of London broke rank by asserting that the whole thing had been a charade to “get rid of the Queen at any price."”

Tudors did not include a scene of her trial; but it did, at least, include Cranmer’s words that he was “clean amazed” by the accusations levied against her, and his words that 

“She who has been the Queen of England upon earth will to-day become a Queen in heaven.”

Of course, I know that these opinions/emotional reactions were not held by all at the time. Many of the commons did not care, other than about the shock and gossip of it; nor can we really blame them for not doing so– it didn’t really affect their lives in any significant way. Subjects didn’t tend to hold as much of a nationalistic connection, or as much of a loyalty, to a Queen Consort as they did to their king– beyond that which was legally required. Besides which, Anne had only been their queen for three years (had been on only a few progresses, and three years is not much time to form a bond); and had become so in a manner that a few termed as ‘scandal’. 

There were some of the commons that did care, I’m sure– those that had been recipients of her charity, a few among them that might have had Reformist leanings. We do not see them, other than symbolically in the crowd that kneels to her on May 19th in Tudors. However, we do not see this in Wolf Hall, as they all remain standing; even though historic record shows that everyone there, including Cromwell, and besides Charles Brandon and Henry Fitzroy, knelt to her on her last day on earth. 

The King of France, certainly, did not seem to care much about her death– upon the news of Anne’s execution, he offered Henry a betrothal to his sixteen-year-old daughter. Many of her enemies were relieved, a few even rejoiced, Reginald Pole wrote two months later of how Anne Boleyn had been the “cause of all evil”. 

There were those that respected and admired her, and those that reviled her, and all manners in between (including those that were indifferent)– there should be room, in fiction, to represent this spectrum. 

Sadly, that’s not often what I see– in fiction or even non-fiction works. 

What I tend to observe instead, when it comes to Anne Boleyn (and other historic figures, but especially for her) is the author projecting how they view her…onto how others viewed her. 

Sometimes, how they view her coincides with something one of her contemporaries said, or coincides with something an English subject said. It’s fine to include that, of course– but it doesn’t make your fiction (or non-fiction)  weaker to include the things that were said that don’t match up with your impression of her.

If anything, the demonstration of such complexity would make it stronger– and I wish I saw such demonstrations more often than I do.