TUDOR SECRETS AND MYTHS EVENT TUDOR SUMMER QUEENS GUEST POST
The Coronation of a Summer Queen: The Mystique of Monarchy Now Belongs to Anne Boleyn by Rebecca Monet
As she waited, no doubt the steps beneath Anne Boleyn effused the billowy, musty scent of the river as the Thames lapped against the lowest rise. This “narrow arm of the sea thrust inland” (Kenton), brought with it a certain coolness, though it was early summer. It was here, on the steps of Greenwich Palace, that Anne began her coronation journey. By now she was six months pregnant and likely bolstered by adrenaline and excitement. It appeared her time had indeed come. Yet, she doubtless welcomed any breeze from the cool waterway below. Each stirring gust certainly served to bear her up and prepare her for the four-days of coronation celebrations ahead.
It would not be long before the mid-afternoon sun would glint upon the gold bunting and colourful flags of some 120 barges and 200 smaller ships led by the Lord Mayor of London, announcing themselves with the tinkling of the bells from the banners upon the masts. When Anne caught sight of this impressive flotilla pushing against the tide, plumes of fire emerged from the wherries bearing a huge mechanical dragon as well as monsters and giants which expelled blazing fireworks and “hideous cries” (Ives).
Though the Liber Regales dictates the use of similar pageants for the coronation of a queen consort, and while both Henry’s mother and Catherine of Aragon were honoured with the same, Anne’s water pageant “was as never in one syght out of the cyte of London sene” according to the coronation pamphlet, The noble tryumphaunt coronacyon of Quene Anne, wyfe unto the most noble kynge Henry VIII, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1533.
It must have been a spectacle. It had to be; crowning a new queen when all of London felt they possessed one —and one they already adored— required dazzlement. This was confirmed two days later, when additional pageant routes had been affixed to the traditional procession which ran from the Tower to Westminster Abbey. The customary allotment nobly served Charles V’s entry over a decade before; however for Anne, superseding the glory of the Holy Roman Emperor might help brook any discontent from onlookers. And though the Lord Mayor said he could not command the hearts of his people, the spectacles laid before them surely bid their attention.
No doubt this is why, though there are no conclusive accounts as to the response of the crowd, Professor Eric Ives wisely suggests the Londoners were most likely “more curious than welcoming or hostile.” In fact, even spectators in the figurative sense—those who have “watched” for centuries—must recognize the magnificence of these four days. However, in the end, the true triumph of Anne Boleyn’s coronation lay most acutely in the dynamic and traditional interventions which successfully vied for Tudor legitimacy and supremacy. Ultimately, the drive to authenticate Anne’s queenship rendered her celebrations not only extravagant, but richly imbued with ancient symbolism, chivalric code and ceremony. And after seven long years, Henry VIII would finally have his desired queen, the one he hoped carried his unborn prince— the babe who would writhe under the shared weight of St Edward’s crown— on the first of June, 1533 in Westminster Abbey, where Anne would be consecrated and anointed as queen consort of England.
With greetings from the principle ladies at court, Anne’s descent into her opulent barge on that stirring afternoon on 29 May 1533, marked her entrance into the resplendent, if not rigorous, course toward her coronation. The barge behind held the rest of her women while “the king’s barge (was) full of his guard ‘in their best array’, with the royal trumpets and minstrels, followed by the barges of courtiers” (Ives). All were accompanied by the “‘marvellous sweet harmony of..instruments, the which sounds to be a thing of another world” (Ives/LP).
The tide of the Thames very much resembled the struggle which led to this day; for just as the parade of ships pushed against the tide to Greenwich, so too had Henry and Anne buffeted the institution which held sway over not only their desire to be together, but over all monarchial decisions in Europe: the Roman Catholic Church. Henry broke with the Pope, rendering his rule more imperial in nature; a rupture which allowed him to remove his devoted and loving wife of twenty-three years, his original queen consort, Catherine of Aragon. In fact, only six days before Anne’s coronation celebrations began, Archbishop Cranmer, apart from any acquiescence from Rome, and in an additional effort to secure Anne’s legitimacy, declared the annulment of Henry’s marriage to Catherine. And at the eleventh hour, on 28 May—the day before the parade on the river—Cranmer announced the validity of Henry’s marriage to Anne. Yet, Anne and Henry had married in January and Anne had appeared as queen on 12 April in the Chapel Royal. In the end, since Henry sanctioned Cranmer’s office as archbishop as well as circumvented legalities with his marriage and Anne’s appearance as queen, it was Henry who secured Anne’s legitimacy; and by using this imperial power, he would drastically change the course of Anne’s life.
Presently, upon Anne’s embarkment, this could not be more foreboding, for the turn about of the ships put them with the tide, proffering an expeditious journey to the Tower of London. For in three years time, Anne would suffer an equally swift trial following a quick imprisonment in the Tower—a place that would also see her to her end.
But on this day, the jubilant run of the ships was a glorious tribute and Anne’s heart must have jolted and fluttered with the booming salvoes from commercial ships which moved aside and lined their path to the Tower. With this lavish beginning and with banners flying, thousands of spectators saw a visual —if not a heartfelt— confirmation that the Lord Mayor, the city officials and high born nobleman appeared to back Henry VIII’s choice. Figuratively speaking, it was a political coupe; or, as Ives succinctly put it, it was “engineered as a piece of corporate idolatry. All had apostatized before the king’s command; all had bowed the knee to the new goddess. And even for those with harder heads and less imagination, there was an equally significant lesson. Henry had had his way; the king’s will was irresistible.”
Running alongside the Lord Mayor hastened a wherry which held proof of this unyielding resolve, for within its hull and looming high above the heads of the cavalcade sat “an outsize(d) representation of Anne’s principal badge, a white falcon crowned, perching on red and white roses which burst out of a golden tree-stump” (Ives). Meanwhile, as this tableau cast its distinctive shadow upon London’s watery thoroughfare, “singing and playing sweetly” (Ives), about the stump’s verdant base were several young virgins, fortifying the sacred themes of purity and fertility which were central to the coronation of a queen consort. And even more resolutely, through the use of this heraldic diorama—as with many other images throughout the coronation—Henry VIII attempted to establish both a retroactive and contemporary supremacy of the Tudor dynasty—and one in which both Anne and her pregnancy were clearly, and quite legitimately, playing a part.
Though nearly a half century later, and in a way he desperately hoped to communicate, this resolve to use powerful, established representations and institutions was built on Henry’s drive to validate the nascent crown seized by his father at Bosworth Field. As Henry VIII observed in Henry VII, it was of the utmost necessity that his father, “use his coronation to reassure the country that he was God’s chosen ruler” (Lisle), especially as Henry VII’s French conscripts most likely brought the sweating sickness to London. This struck terror within London and was seen as an omen; as Leandra de Lisle points out,
Any speculation on the possible meaning or significance of the sweating sickness was banned and new royal symbols were chosen that would project the appropriate chivalric values for a glorious new king (Henry VII). Amongst them the most significant was the red rose. It has often been suggested that the rose was chosen because the House of Lancaster from which Henry drew his royal blood had used it as their symbol. But if Henry had only wished to associate himself more closely with that royal House he would have chosen a more favoured Lancastrian device. The last Lancastrian king, Henry VI, had used variously a spotted panther, an antelope, and ostrich feathers. Henry Tudor chose it less because of its royal associations than because its religious symbolism.
Consequently, because Anne was not viewed as the legitimate wife of Henry VIII and because the people felt they already had crowned a queen consort, Henry’s urge to draw on ancient images and traditional ceremony became equal—if not paramount—to his father’s desire to defeat skepticism within his own kingdom. And the use of these emblems and ideas, alloyed with Henry VIII’s notable romanticism, became a surprising and potent amalgamation which, when combined with Henry’s Act in Restraint of Appeals, superseded anything else — even overt promotion of the “new religion” which, as it stood, had not yet fully developed into what we now consider “Protestantism.” Henry worked instead to advance, as Dr. Alice Hunt confirms, “a king’s divine authority,” ultimately suggesting that for Henry, “a correct coronation…was an ideal way to express a historical, spiritual and personal supremacy.” Additionally, the “sweetly singing” virgins, promoting the ideals of purity and fertility alongside Anne’s burgeoning belly, confirmed to Henry, that the stabilizing force of legitimacy might be well within his grasp.
Upon her arrival at the tower, Anne was “greeted by a party of the Tower officers and the heralds…Anne and the London notables proceeded through the crowd to a second reception party, the officers of the royal households, and then on to be greeted by the great officers of state; finally through the postern gate into the fortress and to the king himself who, that day, as throughout the coronation festivities, had been compelled by ancient tradition to observe in secret. Henry embraced his wife, who turned to thank the citizens ‘with many goodly words’, and so too the king” (Ives). The first public celebration for the coronation was over.
For the next two days, Henry and Anne would remain in the Tower where they enjoyed the newly refurbished medieval palace in the inner ward; a project which Cromwell had carefully—and rather expediently—overseen. This included new apartments, a largely reconstructed great chamber and dining-room as well as access from Anne’s private garden into the city with a new bridge across the mote. Unusually, Henry had requested that Anne’s quarters extend so that the queen’s apartments were much larger than his own. In this, he clearly showed honour toward his new queen.
It was also here, at the tower, that the second most important order of chivalry took place. Followed only by the Knights of the Garter, Henry VIII ceremoniously inducted 18 knights of the Bath who were no doubt offered the same deep rituals which were chronicled during Henry V’s coronation and most likely remained unchanged. Because many of the men were connected to the Boleyns and Howards, this gave clear evidence of the honour one would receive for supporting the new queen. Henry went on to designate nearly 50 more men as Knights Bachelor, dubbing each one in turn. Legitimacy was again won in the form of indelible ancient rite.
If the weather had not been so lovely on Saturday, 31 May, the late start to Anne’s coronation procession may have seemed disquieting, but she appeared outside the Tower, likely feeling that all of nature was with her. She wore a filmy white gown, its elegant French lines no doubt splendidly orbiting her rounded form. Atop this was “a mantle of the same furred with Ermyne’, with her hair loose, as custom dictated”(Ives). On her head sat a “coif which was made of white silk in the French style…’cross barred with gold cord and edged with passement’ (Morris). Placed upon this was a gold coronet which not only displayed her standing, but served to hold her long, flowing hair in place; her unbound hair was a sign of purity and fertility.
At long last, though they left at five o’clock instead of two, leading the procession were the blues and yellows of the French contingent. Magnificently, the whole of the procession—some 400 among them— exhibited all the marks of a sumptuous tapestry, with its many coloured threads resplendent in the bright livery, exquisite dresses and velvety robes of the people, not to mention the adorned traps upon the horses. Preceding Anne and most likely organized outside the tower, the entire procession itself was nearly two and a half miles long and consisted of:
about 400 gentlemen preceding her, walking in pairs. The household of the French ambassador came first…(a presumed) nod to Anne’s connection with France and how France had been supportive of the marriage…Then the gentlemen of the King’s privy household, there were nine judges in scarlet velvet and then came the newly created Knights of the Bath…they were also in scarlet robes with hoods of minerva and then…some high ranking men of the church which were followed by the marquesses, earls, barons who were all mounted on horseback. Then getting closer to Anne was the Venetian ambassador who was accompanied by the Archbishop of York and then behind them, Thomas Cranmer as Archbishop of Canterbury who was riding alongside the French ambassador. Directly in front of Anne (was) the Mayor of London, Christopher Askew, (who) was carrying the ceremonial mace, which is a symbol of power; then directly in front of Anne (was) William Howard, Anne’s uncle, who was standing in for Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk. The Dukes of Norfolk are the Earl Marshalls of England and they presided over great events. (However, the Duke of Norfolk had been sent to France to work alongside Anne’s brother, George Boleyn on a diplomatic mission just days before the coronation) Riding next to Lord Howard was Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. He was there as the High Constable (Morris).
Anne was directed to her litter which was made of white satin “ ‘with white cloth of gold’ inside and out” (Ives), and a canopy of cloth of gold was steadied above her head by the Barons of the Cinque Ports. Instead of wheels, the liter was held up by poles which ran through slots in the harnesses of two guiding white palfreys. Her own palfrey followed, trapped in white. Directly behind Anne, there were twelve ladies dressed in velvet crimson robes, followed by the glint of red cloth of gold which bedecked the two carriages which held:
Aristocratic ladies, including Anne’s step grandmother, the fifty-six year old Agnes, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk and forty-seven year old Margaret, Dowager of Dorset; then more chariots following some of them furnished in white cloth, another red cloth, and a train of about thirty women all dressed in velvet and silk in the colours of the ladies they were attending. Right at the end was the Master of the Guard and the attendant constables all dressed in velvet with damask coats” (Morris).
The image of Anne, dressed in white with her dark hair cascading down her back, and the blood red stream of crimson velvet to follow—not to mention all the nobles, officials and guards who preceded her—must have been awe-inspiring to view as she travelled with her retinue across London to Westminster hall.
The streets had been cleaned and gritted and along the way could be seen “arras or tapestries, carpets, cloth of gold and silver and other rich fabrics” hanging from buildings which were up to three or four stories high (Morris). In Cheapside, wine flowed from fountains for all the people to drink.
The “Royal Book” (or Liber Regales) dictated that at the entrance, the procession be duly welcomed by angels which actors fittingly played. The Pageants themselves, which were dotted along the way, were composed of skits and poetry recitations which were powerfully weighted with meaning and often set upon beautifully appointed platforms created by Hans Holbein. Nicolas Udall and John Leland, who were commissioned to not only oversee the pageants, but dictate the themes and compose the writing, “drew heavily on their classical scholarship for Anne’s coronation pageants and, while the use of English in pageantry was not without precedent…Anne’s was the first procession to introduce classical, humanist themes…” (Hunt).
Pageant scenes such as “The Nine Muses at Apollo” offered “goodly armony, goodly aray” and “sweet armony of ballads” (Hunt/Worde)
What a remarkable sight on this pleasant summer evening: to see all the rich fabrics, awash with colour with some glinting with silver and gold— and then to view the artistry of Hans Holbein and listen to the rich words of Udall and Leland! Certainly the attitudes of the people gave credence to Ives’ assertion that they may well have been more awed than belligerent. As the great procession moved from the Tower to Westminster Hall, it provided not only a physical segue, but a reminder of the deep connection between Anne and this rich medieval-Tudor tradition of pageants and processions, all which led to her next dramatic event. The new queen was truly fêted. It was an extraordinary entre to Westminster Hall and an especially promising launch into the next morning—Anne’s coronation day—which was chosen to commence on Whitsunday.
The sliced edge rendered by the “new religion” was not in fact sharp or clean and neither was it a radical departure from Catholicism. In fact, it was born more from of a desire to rid the Catholic Church of corruption than to fully depart from it. Though England was rent from the Pope, it had not left the the church in its entirety. This is no less evident in Anne Boleyn’s coronation. As Hunt summarizes, “In fact, it is the image of Anne as a traditional Catholic queen and the power of the medieval precedent that are insisted upon in this ceremony, and in the pageants and verses that accompany it. Considered in the context of Henry’s recent asserted supremacy, rather than in the context of future reformation, Anne’s Catholic coronation plays a critical part in defining, legitimising and understanding that supremacy.” That said, Whitsunday—named for the white clothing of those baptized during this time and the holy day chosen for Anne’s coronation—was not only the most readily available, but in this rushed planning of events, surprisingly propitious, for it celebrated the decent of the Holy Spirit—a heavenly anointing, Pentecost— and it was considered the instigation of the Christian church itself. No better messages could serve the new queen. This White Falcon— the new queen consort —surely desired to lay the foundation of the new church and with her yet unborn prince, confirm the supremacy of imperial England itself. Ives suggests these messages slipped into Udall’s verses, especially in his poem “Falcon White,” when Udall scribed.
And where by wrong
She hath flown long
Uncertain where to light
Herself repose
Upon the rose
Now many this Falcon White
Whereon to rest
And build her nest
GOD grant her, most of might!
That England may rejoice as always
In this same Falcon White
The “wrong” penned here may suggest the misconduct of the church which Anne longs to right with a new foundation. Along with the images of the Tudor rose and perhaps metaphors reflecting the White Falcon as the Holy Spirit, all has been set for Anne’s glorious entry—not only her entrance into Westminster, but into her new transcendent life as Queen Consort of England.
After resting the night before at Westminster Hall, the next morning at seven, Ives tells, “The great procession assembled in Westminster Hall…but it was just before nine that Anne herself entered.” Ives continues:
They then set out along a railed route carpeted with cloth of blue ray all along the 700 yards between the dais of the hall and the high altar of the abbey. For this occasion, the court and the peers in their parliament robes were joined by the lord mayor, aldermen and judges, each in scarlet; the monks of Westminster and the staff of the Chapel Royal, all in their best copes; four bishops, two archbishops and twelve mitred abbots in full pontificals; and the abbot of Westminster with his complete regalia. Anne was resplendent in coronation robes of purple velvet, furred with ermine, with the gold coronet on her head which she had worn the day before.
The blue ray cloth mentioned may have first made an appearance at the coronation of Eleanor of Provence in 1236 and it is also highlighted in sources regarding the coronation of Edward I and Eleanor of Castile in 1274. During the medieval era, blue symbolized God’s grace and was often used to paint the clothing of the Virgin Mary. Notably, blue is also the prominent colour used for the clothing of Richard I and Anne of Bohemia in the illustrations for the Liber Regalis.
Above her head was a golden canopy “and she was preceded by the sceptre of gold and the rod of ivory topped with a dove, and by the lord great chamberlain, the earl of Oxford, bearing the crown of St Edward, which had previously been used to crown only a reigning monarch” (Ives). This was the second greatest anomaly in Anne’s coronation. Not only was she replacing an existing queen consort, but she would be crowned like a King. Cranmer even voiced concern, but more for her welfare, as he felt her delicate head might not support the weight. Once again, this would unwittingly serve as a harbinger of things to come. It is also hard not to imagine that this was Henry attempting to crown his baby “prince”—if not anoint him as well, making him Rex imago Christi in utero . Yet, for the most part, tradition was the word of the day, and Anne was, as Ives continues to describe,
supported… by the bishops of London and Winchester; the dowager duchess of Norfolk (who) carried her train—a very long one —and she was followed by the host of ladies and gentlewomen dressed in scarlet, with appropriate distinctions of rank. Special stands had been erected in the abbey and in particular one from which the king could watch proceedings incognito from behind a latticework screen. In the choir stood St. Edward’s chair, draped in cloth of gold.
Anne approached St. Edward’s chair, but before she could be crowned upon it, she must have braced herself, for now she must kneel with her laden body and hear the mass prior to her anointing. It is this sacred act of anointing which made her queenship a divine office, one which distinguished itself from more of a “swearing in,” or elective office which used to exist before the 10th century. When the anointing was introduced, the crowning of a king became “bound up in the authority of the church” (Hunt), because it was a reflection of the anointing of the kings in the Bible. And most importantly, the Holy Spirit must be called upon prior to the anointing. This is the “hallowing.” Given this was Whitsunday, the day when the Holy Spirit anointed and instigated the original church, the Holy Spirit was presumed to be especially active, making these concepts potentially more powerful for Anne Boleyn. Clearly this queen—this white falcon— who was set forth like the Virgin Mary herself, must have received a special anointing not only for herself, but for her baby, the future “king” to be. These deep metaphors could not have escaped Henry and Anne nor the people of their kingdom.
Nearing the high alter, Anne most likely felt the cool, textured surface of the Cosmati pavement under her light slippers—if not her bare feet, which was the tradition. The eponymous name given to the mosaic by the Italian family who invented the process, somehow describes the celestial nature of the piece; thus, as the radiant Anne set upon the dark limestone, it was as if the circular elements —composed of varied shapes of glass in reds and blues as well as onyx, purple porphyry, green serpentine and yellow limestone—once swirled and ran about each other like heavenly bodies; but now in obeisance, lay beautifully subdued in her presence.
With her belly no doubt pulling toward the earth and with great fortitude, she descended to her knees; for, as Ives describes, “as tradition dictated, the coronation was set in the context of a solemn high mass, sung, apparently, by the abbot of Westminster. It was, however, Cranmer who prayed over Anne as she prostrated herself before the altar. Then he anointed her.” And as it should be for any queen consort, he anointed both her breast and her head.
Anne must have felt a mixture of both relief and triumph when she rose and approached the the red carpeted platform which elevated St. Edward’s chair. And as she gently stepped atop the tapestry-covered dais, and her feet were relieved by the warmer, thicker surfaces, no doubt she imagined her ascent as the final steps of her long, seven year journey; and those years—like all the pageants and the many processions which followed—would finally consummate here, upon this risen mound. Yet greater still, was presumably the unspeakable joy that awaited her. Slowly, she gently surrendered her body to St. Edward’s chair and was duly crowned. She was then given the sceptre of gold and the rod of ivory.
During the long te deum in which she was required to wear the heavy crown upon her head—it is easy to imagine above her, scribed upon the air, the slowly emerging vines growing about the letters like those found carved on the rood screen at King’s College—with Tudor roses blooming and fertile acorns twisting—all together surfacing, triumphant; until finally, the declaration: HRAS, Henry Rex Anna Sovereign. Though when the te deum ended, one thing was for certain: Anne’s time had finally come. And though a queen consort, she had been crowned as a monarch and likely proclaimed in her mind and in her heart the words: I am Queen. I am Queen Anne Boleyn.
The banquet to follow marked the official end of the coronation and the next day there would be jousting and celebration, but it was here that Anne was set on her final, unimaginable course. All had been as her chamberlain, Edward Baynton had reported to George Boleyn some days later, that “the coronation had been performed ‘honourably’ and ‘as ever was, if all old and ancient men say true’ (Hunt). And most superbly, as the last queen consort Henry would ever crown, Ives declares, the mystique of monarchy now belonged to Anne Boleyn.
Sources:
De Worde, Wynken The Manner of the Tryumphe of Caleys and Bulleyn: And the Noble Tryumphaunt Coronacyon of Quene Anne, Wyfe unto the Most Noble Kynge Henry VIII.
Grueninger, Natalie and Sarah Morris. Anne Boleyn’s Coronation Procession with Sarah Morris, Episode 76, Talking Tudors Podcast, 30 May 2020.. http://onthetudortrail.com/Blog/2020/05/30/episode-76-anne-boleyns-coronation-procession-with-sarah-morris/
Hunt, Alice. The Drama of Coronation: Medieval Ceremony in Early Modern England. Cambridge University Press, 2008.
Ives, E. W. The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn: ‘The Most Happy’. Blackwell Publishing, 2005. (Kindle edition)
Robinson, Kenton. “The Thames and Its Rivers: ‘a Narrow Arm of the Sea’.” The Day, The Day, 1 June 2010, https://www.theday.com/article/20100530/NWS01/305309984.
Images (in order as they appear)
1.A Coronation Portrait of Anne Boleyn Re-Imagined by Ashley Risk & Rebecca Monet, 2022
- The Royal Observatory from Crooms Hill, about 1696, Wikimedia Commons
- The noble tryumphaunt coronacyon of Quene Anne, wyfe unto the most noble kynge Henry VIII, printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1533, British Library on Twitter
- St Edwards Crown: Public Domain Cyril Davenport (1848 – 1941) – G. Younghusband; C. Davenport (1919). The Crown Jewels of England. London: Cassell & Co. p. 2. (published in the US by Funk & Wagnalls, NY.)
- Chapel royal: Michael Coppins, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.
- Salvoes, Tudor Engraving, Edited. Unknown Artist.
- Falcon Badge Wherry by Ashley Risk and Rebecca Monet, 2022
- The Tower at the Time of Anne’s Coronation, courtesy of The Tudor Travel Guide: https://thetudortravelguide.com/tag/anne-boleyn-the-tower-of-london-the-royal- appartments-historic-royal-palaces-the-last-days-of-anne-boleyn/
- Procession, Tudor Engraving, Edited. Unknown Artist.
- Relieved Joy; Edit and hand drawing by Ashley Risk & Rebecca Monet, 2022. (Crown and additional fur texture hand drawn on edit by Monet)
- Wine Fountain: David Dixon / Tudor Wine Fountain at Hampton Court Palace, Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.
- The Nine Muses at Apollo by Hans Holbein the Younger, Public Domain.
- Falcon White Poem from “Coronation Page” in the Queen Anne Boleyn Paper Doll Book by Rebecca Monet. anneboleynpaperdoll.com
- Liber Regalis. Unknown English painter, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.
- HRAS, rood hood King’s College. Public Domain.
- Dove Sceptre taken from A Coronation Portrait of Anne Boleyn Re- Imagined by Ashley Risk and Rebecca Monet, 2022.
Special Appreciation:
There is a Santa Clause because there is Ashley Risk. I longed for a powerful coronation portrait of Anne Boleyn, but it didn’t exist. However, I was fortunate enough to know someone who could make it happen more quickly than I could paint it! In fact, she took it right out of my head and put it on your screen. I am ecstatic with what Ashley and I were able to achieve together. With the exception of Anne’s crown which I hand drew along with the metallic embroidery on the coif (passement) and some fur detailing in the procession image of Anne in her Litter (Relived Joy), I simply talked, but she took my words and made them electronic images. I think my hat was sometimes “Art Director” if you want to get fancy, but the three representations I imagined would not be here without her. Consequently, in addition to co-creating Relieved Joy, we also collaborated on Coronation Portrait of Anne Boleyn Re-Imagined and Falcon Badge Wherry. We’ve had an absolute wonderful time creating these images together and love how our gift sets commingle. Though ultimately, we hope we’ve not only honoured Anne, but given you a vision of her glorious lost past. Ashley Risk can be found at @faketudorhistory on IG and as Admin for the“Anne Boleyn Obsessed” FB Group ~ R. Monet
About the Author
Rebecca Monet is the author of The Queen Anne Boleyn Paper Doll book. Rebecca Money is a writer and illustrator who grew up in the state of Maryland in the U.S. She received a degree in illustration and for nearly twenty years, created custom murals in private homes in Atlanta, Georgia. She has spent the last fifteen as a mother and writer.
Her mural clients would jokingly call her “Rebecca Monet.” It wasn’t until her last year of painting murals that her father discovered, through a genealogy-fascinated cousin, her clients were not off the mark.
She has since adopted “Rebecca Monet” as her pen name. A perennial student at heart, she loves writing, art, history, flamenco and going really fast on carting tracks.
“I think Anne would have especially loved the latter and I enjoy the thought of seeing her, French hood flying, as she beats everyone else to the finish line” ~ RM
The Queen Anne Boleyn Paper Doll Book:
A Unique Illustrated Biography on Anne Boleyn
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~ Professor Suzannah Lipscomb
“For those interested in Anne Boleyn, this paper doll colouring book will afford hours of pleasure”
~ Alison Weir, Facebook
anneboleynpaperdoll.com, @rebeccamonet2 on IG, facebook.com/rebeccamonet2
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