The Mirror and The Light in the Folger collection

The upcoming PBS release of the BBC production of Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and The Light (the final installment of the Wolf Hall trilogy) inspired us to run down to the vault to see what material we have relating to the miniseries, and to the extraordinary series of events in the sixteenth century that led to the beheading of Thomas Cromwell and the annulment of Henry VIII’s marriage to Anne of Cleves.

This post is for anyone who wants some real-life historical flavor as they get ready to binge the six episodes. We have tales of ale, a treasonous hermit, a frustrated king, chains of gold, a Book of Hours, and post-annulment bounty!

Cromwell requires a debt to be repaid in ale, 1528

This loan agreement details a repayment plan for Thomas Cromwell’s loan of £5 to John Watson, a London brewer. Instead of cash, “Crumwell” requests that he be repaid in ale. Specifically,

every weke one kilderkyn of Ale of good and laufull brewing and holsom for mannes bodye or so moche more as the said Thomas shall wekely spende in his house after the rate of ii shillinges the kylderkyn / the same to be delyuered from tyme to tyme as the saide Thomas Crumwell shall nede wekely vnto suche tyme as the saide ffyue poundes shalbe fully satisfied

Ale was a crucial dietary staple in the period, the energy drink of its day, providing an important source of calories and nutrition for servants and laborers. In this note, Cromwell specifies that he wants a weekly delivery of one kilderkin of high quality ale (“of good and lawful brewing and wholesome for man’s body” [modernized]), at a rate of 2 shillings per kilderkin.

How much ale are we talking about, and what else can we learn from this promissory note? A kilderkin is a half barrel, or 18 gallons of ale. One gallon of ale contains 8 pints, so one kilderkin equals 144 pints. Cromwell estimates that one kilderkin per week would probably be enough in most weeks. In 1528, Cromwell lived in a large house at Austin Friars (which he expanded into a massive estate in the 1530s). In addition to his wife and three young children (his wife and two daughters died of sweating sickness the following year), he needed to feed his servants. If the average servant drank, say, 5 pints of ale a day (a conservative estimate!),¹ then a weekly kilderkin would provide enough ale for four servants. Maybe he only had a few servants at this point, or else he had additional sources for his beer and ale supply.

If one kilderkin cost 2 shillings, then Watson would need to provide 50 kilderkins of ale, or almost a year’s worth of ale, to repay his debt. This debt is recorded by Cromwell alongside many other debts, among his papers now in the State Papers.

A tragic backstory to the relationship between Cromwell and his brewer reminds us that even a simple loan agreement can point to a world of other narratives. Less than a year before the agreement, a bill in Chancery describes an act of domestic violence in which John Watson, brewer, “an evyll disposed person and malycyouslye mynded,” stabbed his pregnant wife, Isabel, multiple times, and then sought sanctuary in Westminster. She went into labor, and the baby died. The inquest juries for the death of the baby, and for her death, four months after the stabbing, did not end in murder verdicts. It was determined that the baby was stillborn and that Isabel died of an infection unrelated to the stabbing.

The Chancery complaint was brought about by Isabel’s sister and her husband, who sheltered her after the attack. They complain that Watson was saved from murder charges because of the influence of the courtier Sir Henry Wyatt and other friends at court. Cromwell, ever the fixer, made many corrections to the document.² I suspect that Watson’s indebtedness to Cromwell went well beyond a five pound loan, given Cromwell’s involvement in the case and his relationship with the Wyatts. Shannon McSheffrey describes the case in greater detail in a blog post on her site Sanctuary Seekers in England, 1394-1557. When I started writing this post, I was chuckling over Cromwell’s beer money, but now I want to cry…

Cromwell and the hermit of St. Thomas Chapel, 1538

In this letter, Cromwell discusses his interrogation of a hermit accused of treason. The hermit, identified in other letters as William Ludlam, of St. Thomas Chapel, Chesterfield (Derbyshire), had spoken against Henry VIII’s marriage to Anne Boleyn, which was made possible by England breaking with the Church of Rome and denying the pope’s authority. Cromwell ominously orders that the hermit be tried before the Justices of the Assize, and “to the example of all other to be punished according to right and the king’s laws” (transcription modernized). That doesn’t exactly sound like a fair trial.

For more on this letter, see this Collation post from 2011, which includes a full transcription and more background.

Cromwell conveys Henry VIII’s impatience to ratify the marriage to Anne of Cleves, 1539

In this letter (two copies of which were sent by two different bearers) to Dr. Nicholas Wotton, Henry VIII’s ambassador in Cleves, Cromwell again takes an ominous tone. The letter is dated 7 November 1539, about a month after the marriage treaty had been signed. Henry VIII was awaiting ratification from Anne’s brother, the Duke of Cleves, and getting very impatient to meet his new bride.

Cromwell, the primary matchmaker in this union, writes that the king and his council have heard nothing from Wotton concerning these timely negotiations, and “do not a little muse and marvel” at the lack of news. Given the imminence of the departure of Anne of Cleves to England, the king was “moved … the more to marvel at this your long protracted silence” (transcriptions modernized). If you were Wotton, you would not be psyched to hear that the king was astonished by your inability to provide an update. Cromwell uses the word “marvel” twice to emphasize Wotton’s dereliction of duty. For a full account and transcription of this letter, see this Collation post.

Henry VIII uses autopen to organize a welcome party for Anne of Cleves, 1539

Henry VIII had to sign a lot of documents as king of England and eventually began relying on a wooden stamp version of his signature to speed up the process and avoid writer’s cramp. In this letter, signed with the king’s wooden stamp, Sir Christopher More is ordered to go to London with six servants, in preparation to receive instructions to welcome Anne of Cleves to England. He is required to outfit himself in a coat of black velvet with a chain of gold around his neck, and be equipped with gowns of velvet or some other good silk.

The wording about the impending nuptials provides a hint that this was not a love match by any means, but rather a diplomatic arrangement orchestrated by others (transcription modernized):

We did lately at the suit and contemplation of some of our Nobles and Council resolve eftsoon [again] to marry, and have thereupon by God’s grace concluded a marriage between us and the most excellent princess the Lady Anne of Cleves … we suppose that the same Dame Anne shall shortly arrive at our town of Calais to be transported into this our realm for the consummation of the said marriage.

As we know, the marriage was never consummated. Cromwell’s subsequent beheading was partly related to his failed matchmaking efforts.

Anne of Cleves gives Henry VIII a Book of Hours, date unknown

This is an undated inscription from Anne of Cleves to Henry VIII, written at the back of a Book of Hours. The devotional text is printed on vellum leaves and beautifully hand-colored. Anne writes (transcription modernized):

I beseech your grace humbly when ye look on this remember me. Your grace’s assured Anne the daughter of Cleves.

We don’t know if Anne inscribed the book before, during, or after their ill-fated 6 month marriage, and there are multiple stories one could tell depending on the timing of the gift. For more on this book, see our Collection highlight write-up.

Anne of Cleves leases one of her post-nup manors to Sir Thomas Cawarden, 1555

After her marriage to Henry VIII was annulled on 9 July 1540, Anne of Cleves officially became “the King’s Sister” and received a generous settlement of property and income. She remained in England and never remarried, enduring Henry VIII’s marriages to two more queens—Catherine Howard and Catherine Parr. This document, signed “Anna the Dowghter of Cleves,” was written in 1555, long after the death of Henry VIII in 1547 and the death of Catherine Parr in 1548.

One of the manors settled on her, for use in her lifetime, was Blechingley Manor and South Park, in Surrey. When she died, the manor was meant to go to Sir Thomas Cawarden. In this lease agreement, Anne grants Sir Thomas Cawarden the right to rent the estate in her own lifetime, for about £33 a year (he would then own it after she died). Other documents at the Folger provide details of additional financial arrangements between Anne and Cawarden, relating to provisions for her household.

There you have it — some juicy historical details from the lives of Thomas Cromwell and Anne of Cleves, to enhance your viewing pleasure!

You can see the letter from Cromwell to Wotton and the Book of Hours in person if you visit the Folger before the end of July 2025. They are part of the current exhibition How to Be a Power Player: Tudor Edition, Rule #9.