by David Field
‘You will be accounted treasonous ere long anyway,’ Norfolk yelled, ‘so save us the time and effort of returning with the King’s command under his own hand, and just give us the fucking thing!’
‘I will when I receive the King’s written authority to do so.’
Norfolk flung his goblet at the wall and turned on his heel. Suffolk followed meekly behind him, and as they reached the doorway, Norfolk turned.
‘I forgot to mention that Henry also requires that you vacate this palace forthwith, and take yourself off to your house at Esher, which goes with your bishopric of Winchester. The same no doubt goes for Hampton, which the King was mightily displeased to learn had been built with monies that belonged to him.’
‘Another of your lies, Norfolk?’ Thomas defied him. Norfolk’s countenance was approaching purple as he bellowed back.
‘This at least is no lie. We shall return upon the morrow — see to it that you are in all ways ready to flit. And next time, serve us better wine than that nun’s piss!’
Thomas’s Treasurer of the Household, William Gascoigne, had almost disappeared inside the mountain of hangings, linen, plate, statuary and books in the centre of the main hall of York Palace that Thomas had ordered out from every cupboard and other storage place in the entire building. William was standing there, armed with a vellum scroll and a quill that he kept dipping into an ink pot as he stood in its midst with a frown, endeavouring to list it all as pages and grooms kept adding to the pile.
‘If this sale is open to the general public, I am in need of more plate,’ came a jocular voice behind him, and Thomas turned and walked forward to embrace Thomas Cromwell.
‘It is no sale, Thomas, but an accounting to the King, who by the gleeful hand of Norfolk commands me to make this ecclesiastical house his property, along with all that is in it. I expect Norfolk to return shortly with the official document, and I wish it to be obvious when he does so that I am well ahead of him in my anxiety to do the King’s bidding.’
‘It is rumoured throughout the city that you have been ordered to the Tower,’ Cromwell told him gloomily.
Thomas smiled weakly. ‘If so, then it is via Esher, since I am commanded to take up my residence in the London dwelling that comes with my Bishopric of Winchester. Will you attend me there?’
‘Too close to Putney for my tastes,’ Cromwell replied with a look of disgust.
‘Forgive me Thomas,’ Wolsey replied, ‘for I had forgotten that you, like me, were base-born. But at least I was raised in a market town in the countryside, and not a blacksmith’s forge.’
‘It was also an alehouse,’ Cromwell reminisced, ‘whose landlord kicked and beat me after enjoying too much of his own hospitality. Enough of him, ere I puke to his memory. Do you wish me, as my first duty of the day, to check the inventory that seems to be overwhelming poor William over there?’
‘Do you still wish to serve one who has fallen from Henry’s grace?’ Thomas enquired, a tear forming in the corner of his eye.
‘And why would I not? You raised me thus far, although it may only have been to rid yourself of Gardiner’s gloomy company. Now that he is safely consigned to the task of terrorising his parishioners in the West Country, who else but your new Secretary is best fitted to ensure that His Majesty is not defrauded of a single piss-pot?’
Stephen Gardiner had, for the past year or so, been enjoying the living as Archdeacon of Taunton that was within Thomas’s grant, and no-one appreciated more than Thomas the change in the day to day atmosphere since the appointment of Thomas Cromwell in his stead.
There was a loud disturbance in the doorway as Norfolk blustered in with a triumphant smirk, waving a small vellum.
‘Here you are, “Doubting Thomas”. The King’s hand on your removal from this whorehouse of your making. Take this paper, read it, then shove it up your fat arse. Good day to you also, Cromwell. Are you here for the pickings?’
‘No, I am here about my duties.’
‘Why does a fallen priest require a man of your abilities, Thomas? When you have come to your senses, and realise where your true future may be found, we could have work for you in Westminster.’
‘For the time being I am content with my current duties,’ Cromwell replied coolly, ‘which on this occasion require that I ensure that His Majesty receives all that to which he is entitled. He is no stranger to this house, or so I am advised. Perhaps that was before it became a whorehouse.’
‘Thomas...’ Wolsey warned him, but Norfolk merely smirked.
‘I see that you share your master’s desire for a very public execution. Shall I advise King Henry that Tower Green must be prepared to dispatch not just the dog but the flea that resides on it?’
‘Here you are, Norfolk,’ Thomas said by way of intervention before matters got any worse. He solemnly removed the chain with the Great Seal from around his neck and held it out for Norfolk to take. ‘Tell His Majesty that not a single item remains unaccounted for, since the dog is an honest one, and his flea is most adept at compiling inventories.’
Norfolk withdrew with a malicious chuckle, and Thomas shook his head at his impetuous Secretary.
‘Thomas, you must guard that impish wit of yours, if you are to survive without me. And survive without me you must, if Norfolk and his cronies get their dearest desire. Now tell me, to whom will the Chancellor’s seal be handed?’
‘There is as yet no formal notice, but Palace rumour has it that it will go to Thomas More. If so, he and Henry will soon be at odds, if the King allows the Lady Anne to sway him to her Lollard sympathies. I own that I too share them, but if it were left to More we would be saying Mass every hour, and every household would be blessed with a likeness of the Pope in every room.’
‘A strange choice indeed, for a King who currently has no love for Rome,’ Thomas agreed. ‘More was most aggrieved when I closed those monastic houses that had turned into whorehouses, and he is unlikely to think too highly of you, after the assistance you rendered to me in that regard. Have a care, Thomas.’
‘This from a man who is rumoured to have one foot on Tower Green already!’ Cromwell joked. ‘But when I have finished with this inventory, do you wish me to put aside old memories and accompany you up-river?’
‘If you would be so good, Thomas, that would be greatly appreciated. You might also see to the safe transfer of all my household, or at least such of them as wish to move to Esher. I fear that the house will not accommodate them all, and as for its fittings and accoutrements, I apprehend that they will be less than adequate.’
‘I feel sure that, like me, they will follow wherever you lead, master. There was a time I swore that before I ever set foot within five leagues of Putney I would pull out my own eyes, but here I go. And if I can do that, what of those for whom it has not such terrible memories?’
‘You are the most constant of companions, Thomas. Come, let us make our way down to the private steps where, hopefully, I still have a wherry and a bargeman.’
Ten minutes later, Thomas hesitated on the topmost step, the barge awaiting him a few feet down, and gazed out into the stream.
‘Are my eyes betraying me, Thomas, or is the river much busier today than it is wont to be at this hour?’
‘Your eyes do not betray you master,’ Cromwell replied sadly, ‘but your former admirers and flatterers do. Since daybreak there have been vessels waffeting up and down this stretch, hoping for the sight of you being escorted to the Tower.’
‘Is that a mark of my unpopularity?’
‘No, master, it is a mark of the King’s inconstancy. Here, let me take your arm.’
‘Thus far but no further, Thomas,’ Wolsey instructed him gently as he sat in the vessel and signalled for the boatman not to push away from the steps. ‘I would not be the cause of your returning grief at the sight of the unhappy scenes of your childhood, and no more would I have you pluck out your own eyes. You have served me truly, and I ask only that you send me word by messenger of how you
go, and how I am spoken of at Court. Can you grant me that undertaking?’
‘Gladly, master. I intend to seek a seat in the Parliament, where I shall ever make it my business to ensure that your reputation is treated with the reverence it deserves. If I might make one brief request, ere I step back ashore. Would you bless me and my family?’
‘With all my heart, Thomas. Bend your head, that I need not attempt to stand in this swaying vessel that is so beset by the waves caused by all these other craft that contain gawpers at my downfall who shall shortly be disappointed.’
Cromwell bowed his head and received the blessing, then, with tears rolling down his face he stepped ashore, and Thomas gave the order to cast off.
George Cavendish had taken the long way round, via London Bridge, along with the horses and Thomas’s mule. Thomas mounted with assistance from Giles Wakely, and they began the last stage of the journey, up the gentle slope between garden butts. At the top of the slope were a tangled collection of houses, a church and several commercial premises. Long before they reached the top, a rider could be seen coming hard down the road from Richmond, and Thomas raised his hand to halt the humble procession.
‘Is that someone come to escort me into the Tower?’ he enquired nervously.
‘I think not,’ George Cavendish replied as he shielded his eyes against the noonday sun. ‘else they would have taken you when we first took to the water. Rather it is some emissary from the Palace.’
He was proved right when the rider drew closer, and Thomas recognised Sir Harry Norreys, who dismounted when he reached them, and bowed gently to Thomas as he held something out in his hand.
‘From His Majesty,’ he announced. ‘He commends himself to your Grace, and asks that you be of good cheer, for you are as much in his favour as ever you were, and he sends this token thereof.’
Thomas reached out and took the gold ring, set with a rich ruby. Tears began to well in his eyes as he recognised the jewel, which was the special token that he and Henry exchanged whenever they sought to confirm that the message was a genuine one, and of some importance. Through his welling tears he heard the rest of Norreys’s message.
‘His Majesty bid me assure you that even though you probably regard yourself as unkindly done by, his actions do not arise from his displeasure, but are simply at the urgings of others of whom you are aware, and who are not kindly disposed towards you. He bid me tell you that you will be recompensed for the loss of your goods at twice their value, and that you will want for nothing, even though your abode shall be more humble for a brief while, until the storm against you subsides. Therefore take heart, show patience, and be of good cheer.’
Through his tears, Thomas knelt on the ground and removed his velvet under-cap to remain bareheaded as he mumbled a prayer. Then he looked back up at Norreys and begged his forgiveness, adding
‘A sudden joy overcame me that was no respecter of time or place, and I thought it my bounden duty to render thanks to God for this joyful news from he whom I most revere in this earthly life.’
Norreys knelt down beside him and placed a consoling arm across his shoulder.
‘Forgive my forward behaviour, my Lord Cardinal, but it saddens me to see you treated in this fashion, after all the comfort you have given to His Majesty, and to Queen Katherine, these many years.’
‘How goes Katherine, say you?’ Thomas enquired.
Norreys sighed. ‘They say she will not eat, and has sworn to die of starvation until she be reunited with the Lady Mary, who is kept close confined at Richmond, though word is that she is shortly to be sent north.’
‘It is sad, is it not?’ Thomas responded. Norreys’s face clouded over as he sought an appropriate response.
‘For myself as a man, I would have to concur, your Grace. But as a Courtier I keep such opinions to myself. And now if you would forgive me, I must return to the Palace ere the sun begins to sink. These lanes are not safe after dark.’
Thomas fiddled inside his robes, and when he removed his hand it contained a small gold chain with a cross attached. He handed it to Norreys, with instructions that it be passed on to Henry.
‘It is said to contain a sliver of the true cross, and I have worn it next to my skin these many years past. In better times I would not have parted with it for any price, or to any man, but today it would seem most apt that I pass it on to my dear friend Hal. Tell him that it is my dearest possession, next to the memories I keep in my heart of happier days in his company. And so, pray take your leave, good Sir Harry, and mind to mention me kindly to your sovereign.’
It was rare indeed these days for Parliament to be summoned, but it was necessary to do so for the renewal of the King’s entitlement to customs dues, which was not automatic, but required Parliamentary approval on an annual basis. Whereas his father Henry VII had persuaded the Members to grant them in perpetuity, they had declined to do so for his successor, following the financial corruption of Dudley and Empson. There were also new Members to be sworn in, a ceremony traditionally attended by the King, and there was a new Member for Taunton, Thomas Cromwell, who knelt solemnly before Henry in the White Chamber at Westminster Palace.
Henry smiled down at him. ‘The same Master Cromwell who once served Thomas Wolsey?’
‘And still does, Your Majesty, although in a reduced capacity, since, as you will be aware, his Grace is also in a somewhat reduced condition.’
‘You are an attorney-at-law, Master Cromwell?’
‘Indeed, Your Majesty.’
‘Attend me after dinner today, here at Westminster. I have need of some legal wisdom.’
Thomas sat nervously in a chair in the chamber to which he had been shown once he had established that Henry had finished dining. He gazed mournfully at the rich hangings in the Painted Chamber, and pondered on the fate that had befallen his benefactor, to whom such finery would have once been commonplace, but who was now reduced to borrowing plate from neighbours in Surrey, in order that his still massive, and totally unnecessary, army of retainers might eat their more humble meals. A side door opened, and Henry entered alone.
Cromwell fell to his knees, but was gently instructed to rise and resume his seat, as Henry took the one next to him.
‘How is it with my dear friend Thomas?’ he enquired in what seemed to be a tone of genuine concern.
‘He is well, Your Majesty, and commends himself to you. He is much plagued of late with a malady of the stomach that has long beset him, and he grows thinner to the eye, but he seems resigned to his new surroundings. This I have by letter, since I have not seen him since he removed to Esher.’
Henry appeared to think carefully, as if choosing his words. ‘Master Cromwell, as you will have surmised, I have no need of your services as a lawyer, since my Court is stiff with them. Rather, I seek your services as a means of retaining communion with your master. However, such is the milieu by which I am surrounded that I do so with some discretion, that others might term “secrecy”. You understand?’
‘Indeed, Your Majesty,’ Cromwell replied as his heart sank to learn that even the King of England was obliged to keep secrets from the ever-rising power of the Norfolk faction at Court.
‘I wish you to assure Thomas that he still retains my love and gratitude for many past services, and that I will not allow his feet to fall much lower than they lie at present. But he is also to understand that the future of the nation continues to depend upon certain matters of which he is aware, and that in pursuit of such matters I must needs have about me those who can bring them to fruition. Do I make myself plain?’
‘Very plain, Your Majesty,’ Cromwell confirmed, unable to bring himself to say openly that there could not be a soul at Court, or in any place of public office, who was not aware of the King’s wish to make the Lady Anne Queen of England, and that until he was able to do so — and perhaps beyond that time — the Norfolk faction would bring pressure upon him to ruin Thomas Wolsey. Why that might be he was unsure, but one did not need to
be a necromancer to see that this was how the land lay.
‘Very well,’ Henry said as he rose by way of dismissal, ‘see that you bring me regular word of Thomas’s continuing welfare. You may let Sir Henry Norreys know when you wish future audience. Now I must return to my private chambers.’
Cromwell knelt in a sign of respect as Henry left by the same door through which he had entered, and Thomas exited the chamber through the door to the public corridor. As he walked briskly down the hallway, intent on returning home, he became aware that he was being followed. He stopped and turned, and there stood two guards in royal livery, each armed with a sword rather than the traditional, and largely ornamental, halberds. One of them addressed him curtly.
‘My Lord of Norfolk seeks your audience.’
‘Give him my best regards, and advise his Lordship that I will attend upon him on the morrow.’
The other guard replied, ‘We were not advised that this was an option. Proceed ahead of us, then turn right at the next adjoining corridor.
Five minutes later, Thomas was staring down the dark brooding eyes of Thomas Howard as he sat sideways in a large ornate chair, swigging wine.
‘Thank you for your prompt attendance, Master Cromwell. You were lately with the King.’
‘On the contrary, I was there ahead of time,’ Thomas quipped back. Howard’s eyes narrowed.
‘I suggest that we do not piss each other about, Master Cromwell. What was the nature of your business?’
‘He was merely enquiring regarding the health of my master.’
‘You are still in his employ?’ Norfolk enquired with raised eyebrows. ‘Surely, his current financial plight is such that he can no longer afford a Secretary.’
‘He does not pay me,’ Thomas admitted, ‘but I continue to serve him out of loyalty.’
‘Such loyalty is rare, and could perhaps be put to better use, Master Cromwell. Seek you a position at Court? Happily, I could make one available to you with little effort.’
