Surviving Henry VIII was no small feat. In a court where ambition could get you executed and favor could vanish overnight, most who rose close to the king eventually lost their heads—literally. Yet a handful of men managed to do the impossible: they stayed in Henry’s good graces from the start of his reign to the very end.
Let’s explore the remarkable stories of those who navigated the deadly politics of the Tudor court and lived to tell the tale. These survivors—trusted advisors, loyal friends, and expert political chameleons—offer a rare glimpse into what it really took to thrive while surviving Henry VIII.
Transcript of The Men Who Survived Henry VIII: Friends Who Kept Their Heads
Today, we’re going to talk about the people Henry VIII didn’t kill—which honestly seems like a shorter list than the people he did. Sometimes it really feels like just being near Henry was dangerous. Anyone who rose too high—Cromwell, Boleyn—ended up in serious trouble, and often, dead.
But there were actually people who were very close to Henry, genuine friends, who managed to survive his entire reign and stay in his good graces the whole time. That’s something we don’t talk about nearly as often, so I want to highlight those people today.
Like I said, when we talk about the people closest to Henry VIII, the stories usually don’t end well—heads on spikes, reputations in tatters, families ruined. But a few men managed something remarkable: they stayed in Henry’s favor from the beginning to the end. These were insiders who understood the rules of a deadly game, and somehow, they walked away unscathed. So who were these unicorns of the Tudor court?
CLet’s start with the most obvious name on the list: Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. Charles Brandon was Henry’s childhood best friend—the kind of friendship that survived jousts, wars, and even a royal scandal.
In 1515, Brandon secretly married Henry’s sister, Mary Tudor, the widow of the French king. Most people would have been executed for that level of cheek, but Brandon got a slap on the wrist and a fine… which he never really paid. That tells you everything you need to know about how deep Henry’s affection for Charles Brandon ran.
Brandon was a constant in Henry’s life. He fought alongside him in France, served on the Privy Council, and even participated in the Dissolution of the Monasteries. But crucially, he never got too close to dangerous court factions or took risky political stances. He was loyal, yes—but he also knew when to stay quiet.
He died in 1545 of natural causes—one of the very few men who went from the start of Henry’s reign to nearly the end without falling out of favor.
Next, we have Sir Thomas Audley. Audley didn’t start in Henry’s inner circle, but he was a master of survival through adaptation. Originally a client of Thomas Cromwell, Audley rose quickly.
He presided over the trials of Sir Thomas More and Anne Boleyn, and eventually became Lord Chancellor. That kind of job usually came with a very short shelf life, but he somehow made it last. His secret was loyalty to the crown over any ideology: when Cromwell fell, he didn’t try to save him; when Protestant reform was in fashion, he supported it, and when it wasn’t, he quietly stepped back.
He understood that his duty wasn’t to shape policy but to carry out Henry’s will. He kept his head down, did the work, and avoided moral stands that might have put him at risk. He died peacefully in 1544.
Next we have Thomas Cranmer, one of the most paradoxical figures in Henry’s reign—deeply Protestant, yet protected by a king who often leaned Catholic when it suited him. Cranmer’s appointment in 1533 was strategic: Henry needed someone to approve the annulment of Katherine of Aragon, and Cranmer delivered. But he wasn’t just a puppet; he had a long game in mind, a slow, cautious shift toward reform. He made many powerful enemies, yet Henry shielded him more than once.
In 1543, when court conservatives tried to bring charges against him, Henry warned Cranmer ahead of time and publicly reaffirmed his trust. That same year, when Catherine Parr nearly faced execution and conservatives gained influence, Henry’s protection saved Cranmer’s life.
Of course, that protection ended the moment Henry died. Under Edward VI, Cranmer was safe, but under Mary I, he was arrested, tried, and eventually burned at the stake. During Henry’s reign, however, he was effectively untouchable.
Now let’s talk about Sir Anthony Denny. You know you’re trusted when you’re literally managing the king’s bathroom schedule. As Groom of the Stool, Denny had daily access to Henry VIII, which even his most powerful ministers could dream of. By the 1540s that role had evolved: Denny not only oversaw the privy but also controlled access to the king, managed royal correspondence, and acted as a political gatekeeper.
In Henry’s final years—when illness made him irritable and paranoid—Denny was one of the few people allowed into his chambers. He even delivered the news of the king’s impending death and helped arrange Henry’s last will and testament to favor the reformist faction. Throughout it all, he never drew attention to himself. He had influence without ever making himself a target—and that is exactly how you survive in the Tudor court.
Let’s talk now about William Paget. He was not born into power; he worked his way up through competence and discretion. He was a skilled administrator, starting as Clerk of the Signet and eventually rising to Secretary of State. He served Henry loyally and handled some of the most delicate political negotiations of the 1540s, including affairs related to the succession.
Paget’s real strength was his total pragmatism. He didn’t tie himself too tightly to any one ideology—Protestant, Catholic, it didn’t matter—as long as the king’s will was done efficiently. He was one of the few men trusted by both Henry and his son Edward VI, and he even served under Mary Tudor later. That adaptability was his superpower, and it kept him alive.
Finally, there’s John Russell, 1st Earl of Bedford. Russell was a soldier and a statesman, but he never tried to be a kingmaker—and that likely saved his life. He served in France, took part in the suppression of the Pilgrimage of Grace, and helped to manage the Dissolution of the Monasteries.
Henry rewarded him handsomely with land and titles. The whole area around Covent Garden today was given to John Russell—Bedford Square, Russell Square—those are his namesakes. All of that land, from Covent Garden north through Russell Square, was part of what Henry VIII gave to him.
Russell knew how to stay out of political firefights. He focused on running his estates, fighting in wars, and doing what he was told—simple, effective, and most importantly, alive.
So what did all of these men have in common? They weren’t saints, but they were careful. They stayed useful. They avoided factional bloodbaths. And they never forgot one essential rule: in Henry’s court, survival wasn’t about being right or righteous—it was about being needed. And never, never ever—never—outshining the king. So there we go: a little bit about the men who stayed alive in Henry’s court.
Heather Teysko is the creator, writer, and producer of The Renaissance English History Podcast,  the original Tudor history podcast, started in 2009. She's been writing about history online for over 25 years, since her first site on Colonial American history became number one in history on Yahoo in 1998. In 2019 she created Tudorcon, which is now a yearly event, in addition to writing books, and running TudorFair.com - a whimsical Tudor Merch shop.
She has been passionate about Tudor England since she first read Alison Weir's The Six Wives of Henry VIII 30 years ago, and subsequently moved to London after college to spend her time immersed in Tudor history (how exciting when she got to interview Alison for the first time!). In addition to history, she is passionate about travel, and has lived in 3 countries and 4 states (not counting her perpetual state of confusion), and her family (who help her host her YouTube channel occasionally).
