The Maner of the Tryumphe of Caleys and Bulleyn and The Noble Tryumphant Coronacyon of Quene Anne, Wyfe unto the Most Noble Kynge Henry VIII

In Short

This volume preserves two rare, anonymous black-letter tracts printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1532 and 1533. Together, they document the diplomatic meeting between Henry VIII and Francis I in Calais and Boulogne, followed by the elaborate coronation of Anne Boleyn. Written as immediate, breathless accounts for a contemporary audience, these texts serve as a primary record of the artistic, culinary, and social excess that defined the early English Reformation. They endure today as artifacts of how a monarch—and his new queen—publicly staged their legitimacy and power.

The Story

The narrative begins with a display of diplomatic brinkmanship. In October 1532, Henry VIII crosses the channel to Calais, accompanied by a retinue of noblemen and soldiers. The focus quickly shifts to the high-stakes dance between the English king and Francis I of France. The meeting at Sandyngfelde is described with intense detail, emphasizing the “lovingest meeting that ever was seen,” where the two monarchs embrace repeatedly on horseback, signaling a unity that masks the shifting political sands of Europe. The kings trade hospitality; Henry is entertained in Boulogne, where he is fed, housed, and feted at the French king’s expense. The account dwells on the sensory overload of this summit: the thunderous sound of cannon fire audible from twenty miles away, the lavish banquets featuring endless courses, and the display of wealth—specifically the French king’s doublet, which is encrusted with diamonds and pearls. The atmosphere is one of cultivated, expensive intimacy, culminating in a masked dance where Anne Boleyn—referred to here as the Lady Marquess of Pembroke—joins the French king in a series of steps before the masks are removed, revealing the court’s inner circle to their foreign counterparts.

The second part of the book transitions from international diplomacy to domestic assertion. The focus shifts to London in May 1533, preparing the city for the coronation of Queen Anne. The narrative documents the civic machinery required for such an event: the fifty barges of the city guilds, decorated with banners and filled with minstrels, escorting the Queen from Greenwich toward the Tower of London. The account lists, at exhaustive length, the men knighted in the lead-up to the event, creating a sense of a nation being mobilized and rewarded.

As the procession moves through the streets of London, the prose adopts the tone of an architectural and theatrical guide. The city is transformed into a stage where pageantry serves as propaganda. At every conduit and crossroads, the Queen passes through elaborate, custom-built pageants: Apollo and the Muses, the Three Graces, and a castle where a white falcon—Anne’s emblem—is crowned by an angel. The streets run with wine, and the language of the poets and children performing for her emphasizes her role in ushering in a “golden world.” The arc concludes at Westminster Abbey, where the religious and political rituals of the coronation are performed with precise, almost military, choreography. The final image is one of absolute order: a feast where the highest nobles of the realm serve the Queen, followed by a day of tilting, where the display of martial prowess marks the final solidification of her new, precarious station.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins Henry VIII departs for Calais on a Friday, signaled by a cannon salute. He is received with formal processions and the presence of the town’s garrison, setting a tone of military readiness.

The meeting of kings The English and French lords coordinate the summit location at Sandyngfelde. The kings meet, drink together, and ride hand-in-hand toward Boulogne, establishing a performative peace.

The feast of excess The two monarchs dine at each other’s tables, exchanging gifts of plate, horses, and jewels. The narrator notes that the French king’s apparel and the sheer cost of the hospitality are beyond the power of his pen to fully describe.

The mask of the Marquess Anne Boleyn appears at the banquet in a mask with other high-ranking ladies. They dance with the French king and his lords before removing their visors, a moment of high social theater.

The river procession The scene shifts to the Thames, where city guilds take to the water in elaborate barges to fetch the Queen. The sound of cannon fire from ships creates an overwhelming, celebratory atmosphere.

The pageant of the city London is transformed into a series of allegorical stations. Each pageant—featuring gods, goddesses, and prophets—bestows honors upon the Queen, culminating in the prophecy of a golden age.

The coronation rites The account details the transfer of the Queen to Westminster Hall and the subsequent religious ceremonies. The narrative concludes with the formal banquet and the tilting matches that celebrate the new reign.

The People

King Henry VIII stands at the center of the first account, a man whose desire for diplomatic validation leads him to stage a summit of unprecedented expense. He is the master of ceremonies, orchestrating his own image as a peer to the French king. Francis I, his counterpart, appears as a mirror image—equally wealthy, equally performative, and equally intent on using pageantry to solidify an alliance. Their interactions are defined by a series of choreographed gestures—embraces, toasts, and shared meals—that aim to project a stability that history would soon dismantle.

Anne Boleyn is the focal point of the second narrative. She does not speak; rather, she is defined by how others view her. She is the “Lady Marquess of Pembroke” in the first half and the “Queen” in the second, moving from the periphery of a diplomatic party to the center of a national myth. She is framed by the pageants as a savior of sorts, associated with the white falcon and the promise of a “new son of the king’s blood.” The nobles surrounding her—the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, the Earls of Derby and Sussex—act as the supporting cast, their individual identities subsumed into their roles as cupbearers, carvers, and sewers. They exist in the text to serve the ritual, their loyalty evidenced by their "humble sort and fashion" as they perform their assigned duties for the new Queen.

In Its Own Voice

“There was the lovingest meeting that ever was seen for the one embraced the other v. or vj. tymes on horsebacke and so dyd the lordes on eyther party eche to other and so dyd ryde hande in hande with greate loue.”

The author describes the initial, highly choreographed meeting between Henry VIII and Francis I as they attempt to project unity before their gathered courts.

“And so the quenes grace in her ryche barge amonge her nobles the cytezyns accompanied her to London unto the toure wharfe.”

This line sets the scene for the grand entrance of Anne Boleyn into the heart of London, marking the start of her transition from a private consort to a public queen.

“The lady that sate in the myddes hauynge a table of golde in her hande wrytten with letters of asure. Ueni amica coronaberis. Come my loue thou shallbe crowned.”

This quote details one of the elaborate civic pageants designed to welcome the Queen, using religious and poetic imagery to justify her ascension.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book is an inquiry into the mechanics of legitimacy. It argues that power is not merely exercised, but performed. The text is obsessed with lists—lists of knights, lists of noblemen, lists of barges, and lists of cannon shots—because, in the Tudor mind, a king’s authority is confirmed by the sheer number of people willing to participate in his theater. The book questions how a new queen is made: through the endorsement of the city, the blessing of the church, and the allegorical alignment of the poets. It is an exploration of the "golden world" that the court desperately wanted to believe was possible, even as it relied on the fragile, temporary props of silk, wine, and gold to construct that reality.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the texture of history—the specific, tangible details of 16th-century life—will find this volume rewarding. It offers a rare, "you-are-there" vantage point that modern historical narratives often polish away. You will feel the claustrophobic opulence of the royal barges and hear the deafening roar of the cannon fire that defined these celebrations.

However, the reader must be prepared for the realities of the text. The language is Early Modern English, filled with period-specific spellings and archaic vocabulary that can be a hurdle for the uninitiated. The authorial voice is not objective; it is partisan, celebratory, and entirely uncritical of the courtly excess it describes. You will not find the skepticism or the hindsight of modern historians here. Instead, you get the raw, unfiltered propaganda of the 1530s. If you are willing to navigate the dense, black-letter style prose, you will be rewarded with a vivid, tactile understanding of how the Tudor court built its own myth. It is a dense, repetitive, and occasionally tedious read, but it leaves you with a haunting sense of the fragility behind the grandeur—the knowledge that all this wine, silk, and gold was spent to secure a future that would remain perpetually uncertain.