Dawn Images

Philippa Gregory has attained considerable fame, primarily due to writing historical novels about British royalty and nobility. Her work has made it to the big screen as well, most notably when Natalie Portman played the ill-fated Queen Anne Boleyn in The Other Boleyn Girl (2008).

Her latest novelistic endeavour, Boleyn Traitor, focuses on the life of Jane Boleyn, Viscountess Rochford, who was married to Anne’s brother George. Jane was suspected of having betrayed both siblings, who ended up losing their heads due to the wrath of Henry VIII. One of the most educated women in Tudor England, thanks to the encouragement of her learned father, Lord Morley, Jane used her skills and wits in order to survive in an increasingly unstable royal court.

Gregory situates the action of her novel during the eight-year period from 1534 to 1542, which saw the beheading of Anne Boleyn, the death of Jane Seymour, the annulment of Anne of Cleves’ marriage to King Henry, and the execution — for committing adultery — of the young Queen Katherine, who was originally a scion of the powerful Howard family.

Jane had also served as one of Katherine of Aragon’s ladies, so her remarkable stint at court involved service, in total, to no fewer than five royal queens. Gregory presents a sympathetic portrayal of Viscountess Rochford, implying that it would have done her no good to attempt to defend her husband and Anne from the charges of incest. One message that clearly emerges from Gregory’s writing is that Henry VIII pulled no punches when it came to casting aside anything that got in the way of his capricious desires. He went from being a spoiled prince to becoming a tyrannical king.

Jane’s own downfall lay in the fact that she was not only sympathetic to Katherine Howard’s passion for the young and handsome courtier Thomas Culpeper, but she actually aided and abetted their courtship. However, given that Henry was a very ill and deranged individual by that point, Viscountess Rochford was by no means the only person at court to sympathise with Katheryn Howard’s predicament and desperation.

Nevertheless, in spite of her considerable political expertise, Jane Boleyn ended up pushing her luck too far in this case. So incensed was Henry at her role in the affair that he passed a special act through parliament that allowed him to execute Jane, even though his personal physician (Doctor Butts) had declared her insane and unfit to be condemned to death.

While there is most likely a whole lot more, historically speaking, to explain why Henry bounced from one wife to another with impunity, readers in general — and feminist readers in particular — will find this book to be a refreshing addition to the genre of historical fiction. In a day and age when a childless and widowed noblewoman (whose husband had been disgraced and executed) could barely make ends meet, Jane survived this traumatic period by becoming an effective spy at court for the brilliant lawyer Thomas Cromwell.

Although Cromwell had been instrumental in engineering the downfall of Anne Boleyn, he acted in Henry’s best interests by allying England with the Protestant powers of Germany, by encouraging the king to marry Anne of Cleves (following the death of Henry’s third wife, Jane Seymour).

Whimsical, egotistical and capricious, however, Henry didn’t care for the sensible German princess. She may have ended up suffering the same fate as Anne Boleyn had Viscountess Rochford not urged Anne of Cleves (at the instigation, and with the cooperation, of Cromwell) to accept an annulment of her marriage, along with the gift of a couple of rich palaces and an extensive staff of 8,000 noblemen and ladies.

Jane Boleyn was, in many ways, the ideal courtier. Superbly discreet, sympathetic, sensible and never easily ruffled, she did her best to serve her female bosses as honourably as possible without ruffling the feathers of the increasingly unstable Henry. Her closest relationship was with Thomas Cromwell, in that (although it was never sexualised) their friendship was a liaison of well-matched minds.

Jane held a low opinion of her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk; this was somewhat justified since he was a selfish and self-serving man, unlike Cromwell, who generally had the nation’s best interests at heart. Most of the other male figures in the novel do not shine in contrast to Jane, probably because Philippa Gregory wanted to create a shrewd and experienced central character in this book, who — had it not been for her gender — might theoretically have risen to a much higher post than that of a lady-in-waiting.

But part of Jane Boleyn’s survival skills was her ability to make the most of what she had, and to play the cards that she was dealt by fate to the best of her ability. Although able to mask her true feelings at court on a regular basis, her grief at Katherine of Aragon’s death, as well as at Thomas Cromwell’s, was sincere.

She prevented Anne of Cleves from losing her head and managed to run each queen’s household with ostensible propriety, efficiency, and a strong sense of diligence. She did not allow herself to be embroiled in a second marriage, which would have left her at the mercy of some nobleman’s moods and whims.

Instead, thanks to Cromwell’s assistance, she managed to obtain for herself the residence of Blickling Hall, along with a regular monetary allowance at court. Had Katherine Howard been a less foolish woman, Jane herself might have outlived Henry VIII (who died shortly after he married his sixth wife, Kathryn/Katherine Parr).

But as the grim, senseless and sordid execution of an old woman like Margaret Pole proved, Henry was not above executing anyone whom he perceived to be a threat, even if they had previously served the royal family well. Margaret had been the king’s late mother’s best friend, but that did not prevent Henry from tossing the old lady into the Tower of London, and then getting rid of her permanently when it suited his purpose.

Perhaps Jane’s ultimate victory lay in the manner in which she lived her life. Given the dangers prevalent and rampant in the treacherous Tudor court, her rapid imprisonment and death were simply a matter of time. But even if one’s luck may eventually run out, the legacy of one’s name may live on through the ages.

Five centuries after her demise, Jane Boleyn is regarded not as a traitor but as someone who, in our world, would have merited the compliment of being called a consummate professional.

Originally published in Dawn, Books & Authors, April 5th, 2026