I'm reading Alison Weir's biography of Henry VIII of England, and I'm struck again, as I have been before, by one strange concurrence. See if you can spot it in the following list of the most eminent men who served the second Tudor:
Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor
More, also Lord Chancellor
Cromwell, also Lord Chancellor
Audley, also Lord Chancellor
Howard, the 2nd Duke of Norfolk
Howard, the 3rd Duke of Norfolk
Cranmer, first Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury
Boleyn, Earl of Wiltshire and Anne Boleyn's father
Knyvet, Henry's Master of the Horse
Seymour, younger of the two brothers to Queen Jane Seymour
Wyatt, courtier and early lyric poet
Linacre, the King's physician
Elyot, courtier and historian
Carwarden, first permanent Master of the Revels
Heneage, Privy Councillor
Abell, Chaplain to Queen Katherine of Aragon
Cheney, Privy Councillor
See it yet? I'll give you a hint: when you see a movie and play about this time, and there are many because it was an era of high drama, all of these guys call each other by either their titles or their surnames. They have to, because it would be too confusing for the viewers otherwise. Each and every one was given the name 'Thomas' at birth.
I don't know whether it was a fashion that got out of hand or what, but it's true. Makes me think of the old Monty Python sketch about the philosophy department of an Australian university - G,day Bruce!' 'How are ya, Bruce?' 'What's up, Bruce?' I can just imagine some middle-class matron saying to her husband, 'It doesn't matter what your dad's name was! We want the King to notice and promote him, so we're going to name him Thomas!'
