Travelling through history: England 1533

Many years ago, my friend Andrew Harvey and I wrote radio scripts for a travel guide series set in different eras of history. Here’s one I’ve dug out.
A: Today on travelling through history, we’re arriving at the wedding of King Henry VIII to his second wife, Anne Boleyn. Everyone on the A list is here, Thomas Cromwell, Sir Thomas More and some bloke wearing a black headdress sharpening a battleaxe out the back.
T: As to where the reception is taking place, it’s in a secret location, and as to which Church, it’s the one that’s been formed earlier that afternoon.
A: Yes the Church of England has been created, for the noble and God given purpose of allowing the King to marry someone fertile.
T: But although this is the first ever Church of England wedding, much of the standard wedding etiquette still applies.
T: First of all, get there on time. This is actually more difficult than you might think. It’s still four centuries until Greenwich mean time is developed, so things are a bit approximate. Suffice to say, when the invite says ‘early afternoon’, you don’t want to still be saddling up your mule at midday.
A: Come on Tone, it’s a royal wedding. You don’t want to turn up in a mud-splattered tunic on some three-legged mule. You need to arrive in style. Why not consider hiring a whirlicote for such an occasion?
T: Yeah, okay, the whirlicote — a decadent horse-drawn carriage, that was very much society transport in the 14th century.
A: Secondly, you need to be able to cobble a sensible wedding gift together. When buying your gift, there are really only two criteria you need to observe. First, you need to spend the same amount on the wedding gift as you think your meal at the reception will cost;
T: And second, you need to buy something which will fit inside a whirlicote.
A: That’s right — Henry was once rated as the best archer in the land, for example — but a set of longbows might be difficult to fit inside the carriage…
T: and to install a roof rack would be against both whirlicoting regulations and good sense.
A: Also, remember that Anne Boleyn is actually pregnant with Henry’s child at this point, so you may need to consider an additional present for the child. It’s no secret that Henry is looking for a male heir, so if you do buy a second gift, make sure it’s not a medieval barbie doll or anything wrapped in pink ribbon.
T: Hmmmm — be guided by the bridal registry here. And when you do get to the ceremony, don’t get too stuck into the mead and other refreshments.
A: That’s right Tone. Henry was a big fan of banquets. In fact, during his rule, he spent most of his father’s fortune on food, war, and litigation with the Catholic Church. There’s no doubt servants will be trying to pour as much mead down your throat as you can drink.
T: And that’s usually about half a glass. A poor cousin of wine, mead is sickly sweet and essentially undrinkable — stick firmly to the orange juice.
A: Assuming the presents have gone down well and the mead hasn’t, you may want to consider actually introducing yourself to the happy couple. Now there are a few things you need to bear in mind at this point.
A: Don’t tell Anne she’s put on weight, for example. Don’t make jokes about shotgun weddings, or longbow weddings as they were known in those days. Don’t call Henry Hal —
T: And, perhaps most importantly, don’t say anything about the sixth finger on Anne’s left hand.
A: Yes, rumours suggest that Anne did in fact have eleven fingers all up. Nobody’s quite sure how she obtained this extra finger, but it’s probably best not to ask whether she finds embroidery or playing the lyre any easier than the average queen.
T: Yes leave that discussion for the lads after the bridal party retires.
T: And finally, remember not to snigger when you hear the happy couple say ‘till death do us part.’ In fact say nothing unless it’s excessive flattery.
(‘Hey Henry great gig mate’)
T: Yes, Henry has a bit of a short fuse.
(Beheading noise)