Six wives

Henry VIII is England’s most famous king.  Some kings are famous for great wartime deeds, for example Richard I, known as “the Lionheart”, or Henry V, victor at Agincourt; some are famous for well-remembered episodes during their kingship, such as Alfred, who burnt some cakes, or Richard III, who lost his horse; others are famous for disabilities, such as George III’s madness or George VI’s stutter.  Henry VIII is famous neither for heroic deeds nor disabilities, but because he had six wives.   Plenty of kings had multiple mistresses, but multiple marriages are far less common; six wives is an unusually high number for kings; even for movie stars, although Tony Curtis managed it.

To understand Henry VIII’s lifelong commitment to serial monogamy we need to consider the political problem that confronted him and his belief about how best to solve it.  His father, Henry Tudor, had emerged as the victor of the War of the Roses, a civil war in England that followed on from the end of the Hundred Years War between England and France (1337-1453).  For more than thirty years, two English noble families contested the right to the throne until the dispute was finally settled by Henry Tudor’s victory over Richard of York (who lost his horse) in 1485, and his subsequent marriage to Elizabeth, the daughter and heir of the rival family. 

Henry and Elizabeth had seven children, of whom four were daughters.  His eldest son, Arthur, died aged 15 and another son, Edmund, died when he was one year old.  Two of his daughters also died as young children.   Henry, the second son, was born in 1491 and became king aged 17, when his father died in 1509.  He ruled until his own death, aged 55, in 1547.  For his entire adult life, his most pressing concern was to establish the Tudor’s family’s rule over a united and secure kingdom, and for that he believed he needed sons.  Only sons, so he thought, would ensure dynastic succession, thereby preventing a reversion to the chaos of civil war, and only sons could resist the unwanted influence of foreign powers, particularly France and Spain.

Despite his best efforts – and the very significant contributions of his six different wives, plus some mistresses – only four of Henry’s children survived childhood.  Both his sons died in their teens, including his sole legitimate male heir, who ruled as Edward VI for six years after Henry’s death, under a regency led by his uncle.  Of the two daughters who survived into adulthood both became queens in their turn, Mary ruling for 5 and Elizabeth for 45 years.  While Mary’s reign is now regarded as a period of religious turmoil, during which she tried to overturn the English Reformation, Elizabeth I’s long reign is remembered as a golden age, notably for the voyages of exploration, the introduction of tobacco and the potato from the Americas, the destruction of the Spanish invasion fleet in the Channel, and the poetry and plays of Edmund Spenser and William Shakespeare. 

Elizabeth famously had no husbands, and when she died the English crown passed to the Stuarts, the kings of Scotland.  Unlike the Tudors, the Stuarts had no problem producing male heirs.  James I had seven children, three of whom survived into adulthood, including Charles who became king in 1625.  Charles had nine children, five of whom survived into adulthood, including the future Charles II and James II, both of whom became king following the eleven-year revolutionary interlude after Charles I’s execution in 1649.  James II is thought to have had around 20 children by various wives and mistresses, but he managed only three years as king, before being overthrown in 1688.  The two halves of the Stuart dynasty lasted only 74 years, far fewer than the 118 years of the Tudor dynasty.  

Henry VIII’s mistake was to confuse sons with strong and effective rule.  The Stuarts had sons, but they were useless kings: both Charles I and James II were deposed by their own people.  The great paradox of English history is that Henry VIII, our most famous king, is famous for something that turned out to be a major error of judgement.  He was wrong about what England needed to avoid civil war and to protect itself from foreign influence because – as we see now with the benefit of hindsight – from 1485 to 1688, the periods of greatest economic, social, and cultural progress took place when the country was run first by a woman (1558-1603) and then by a commoner (1649-1660). 

The United Kingdom is not currently enjoying a golden age.   We have had five Prime Ministers in the past decade, and we are about to acquire a sixth.  And six Prime Ministers, like six wives, is not only unusual but indicative of a major error of judgement. 

If we consider the fifty-one-year period from 1964 to 2015, we see relative stability in political leadership in the UK.  Harold Wilson was Prime Minister from 1964 to 1970, and then again from 1974 to 1976.  There was a four-year interlude when Ted Heath was leader, and a three-year appendix when James Callaghan was leader.  Despite this period being remembered as one of economic and social turmoil, there were only three leaders during 15 years.  Then Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister for eleven years, and John Major for seven, followed by Tony Blair for ten years and Gordon Brown for three: four leaders over a 31-year period.  Then David Cameron was leader for six years, although the first five of those were as part of a coalition government.  Fifty-one years, eight leaders, and an average tenure of more than 6 years.

Since Cameron’s resignation in mid-2016, we have had, in order, Theresa May (3 years), Boris Johnson (3 years), Liz Truss (only a few days, misericordia Dei ), Rishi Sunak (2 years), and Kier Starmer (2 years).  Andy Burnham seems likely to become the new Prime Minister, perhaps next week.  Ten years, six leaders, and an average tenure of less than 2 years.  What is going on? 

Once again, a simple mistake is being made about what the country needs to do to achieve domestic harmony and ensure security from malign foreign influence.  Despite the English public’s nostalgia for the Tudor period – books, films, tv series, heritage tours, and the like – nonetheless, and regrettably, it repeats Herny’s mistake of not understanding what is needed to make a country strong.  It does not help that a significant minority of the population still consider France and Spain (and Germany) as threats rather than friends.

For many years now, sections of both the major British political parties, along with some of the fringe parties, have talked about the loss of social cohesion and shared values, both of which are said to lead to national division and decline.  The politicians who promoted this way of thinking have succeeded in convincing a significant proportion of the electorate that the biggest problems facing the country were the malign influence of the EU on our economic and social life, and the growing proportion of the population who came from “elsewhere” and did not understand traditional British culture.  This all culminated in the Brexit vote, when it was claimed that leaving the EU would allow Britian to take back control over its borders and significantly reduce immigration.

I do not plan to rehearse all the reasons why this view was evidently stupid, but it is worth noting that since Brexit, Britain has become economically weaker, more socially divided, less influential in international affairs, and – surprise, surprise – the population has risen sharply as a result of increased levels of immigration.  What I do wish to draw to my readers’ attention is that the recent rapid turnover of Prime Ministers reflects the fact that what many people have come to believe they want – fewer ties with Europe and fewer immigrants, combined with stronger economic growth – is simply not possible.  And each new failure to create this economic growth, which would provide the taxes needed for improved public services, leads to yet another change of leader.  For now, no major party leader has been willing to make the case that economic growth and national security require international partnerships and the expansion of the labour force.  In brief, to avoid becoming poorer and weaker, we need closer ties with the EU and we need immigration too. 

Henry’s desire for sons led him into multiple marriages.  But male kings turned out to be the problem, not the solution to England’s sixteenth and seventeenth century challenges.  Henry might be famous for his six wives, but they are also indicative of his foolishness.  Until the British electorate thinks more clearly about what makes for prosperity, we are stuck with a revolving door at 10 Downing Street, and a succession of leaders who prefer to tell the electorate the falsehoods they want to hear rather than the truths they need to hear.  As we welcome the sixth Prime Minister of this decade, we should recall that this time it is we – the voters – who are the fools.