How King Henry VIII affected my life

He lived over five hundred years ago and yet his legacy touched me personally and still does. The way Henry VIII changed England is extremely well documented. His desire for an heir, for wealth and power led him to become an infamous 

slaughterer of wives and creator of a new faith. Films and books continue to be made about him and those who knew him. When there seems to be nothing more to say about old Henry, up pops another book or essay from a different perspective.



Critics of British History teaching (oh, here we go again) regularly cite the study of Henry as being too much. The popular phrase is that school history is all 'Hitler and Henry', referring to the study of Nazi Germany as well as the Tudors. In Britain, children study these topics at least twice even if they do not opt to study history at examination level. After that, certainly in some courses, the in-depth study can be Nazi Germany and again at advanced level. The same goes for the Tudors. This year I have taught lessons on different aspects of the Tudors, to different age groups, every single day.



Of course, the Tudors is a fascinating period in European history and the complexity of characters and motivations is what inspires so much interest. According to Robert McCrum, writing in The Observer, the story of megalomaniacs such as Henry VIII and Hitler "continue to make great literary fodder." McCrum suggests that anything connected to the Tudors is bound to be successful and films are "box-office gold." People love to read about  this powerful family. "Tudor sagas of greed, lust and ambition, punctuated by violent death, get hashed over as if they happened yesterday."



While McCrum is correct in what he says, my interest is not in the Tudor pursuit of power or the affairs and scandals. It is the dissolution of the monasteries; Henry's great plan to make himself richer by using the corrupt monks as an excuse to rob the monasteries of their treasure. The remnants of this redistribution of wealth is everywhere. The great buildings fell into ruin hundreds of years ago and the remains are still standing as nobody cleared them away.



Now the ruins serve as tourist attractions: some charging us to see them, others putting on shows and displays, some merely rubble. But I love them.



Before my career in history I was fascinated by monasteries. One of the first ones I visited as a child was Strata Florida Abbey, in Tregaron, Wales. It was so tall, the rooms so vast I knew that special people must have lived there. Another one I particularly remember was Saint David's monastery in the city of Saint David's. The remains always had glimpses of great carvings and evidence of wonderful and divine architecture - the arches must have been gateways to something spectacular. There was a mystery and a magic that even castles did not have.



Decades have passed since my first foray into the world of ancient monasteries but my fascination is still there. A few days ago I went to see Croxden Abbey for the first time, despite it only being only a few miles from where I live. However, perhaps because it was raining, I don't know, but the gates were padlocked shut. The sign said that the abbey remains were open daily from 10-5, but they were not. Fortunately the abbey remains were easy to see in the tiny village even though I could not walk between the massive stones. I could still wonder about what once had been, though. The silent air allowed me to slip away into another time and try to image the monks in their enclosed world. It was still inspiring to me.



In the first book of The Prophets of Mercia, Gulfyrian was brought up in the monastery at Saint David's. Although I did not go into much of his life there, it is a tale I will tell at some point. And I will bring back all of those childish feelings of awe and marvel  that I had.



In the meantime I will try to figure out why the desolate ruins in a tiny village have a wire fence around them with a huge padlock on. It's not as if Henry will be back to strip away the lead from the roof or anything. Well, there is no roof for a start.