He laid down the quill and shook sand upon the document. The Earl of Surrey called for the Herald and when the man arrived bade him take the Duke’s message to Aske.
The rain continued throughout the night and by morning the Don was unfordable. The Duke had once more written to the King stating that he intended to treat with the rebels as the weather was too bad to force battle and his men in no fit state to fight, also he did not trust his troops for many sided with the rebels.
Towards midday the rain ceased and the Duke rode out to meet Aske on Doncaster Bridge, saddened to behold the banners of many families who had fought at Flodden amongst the rebels. He succeeded in persuading Aske to disband his forces upon the promise that representatives should be sent to the King bearing their grievances and to show Aske that his word was good he promised to accompany the said representatives to London. Upon the agreement of these terms Sir Ralph Ellerker and Robert Bowes were nominated to carry the petition to the King.
The Duke and his son accompanied these men to London and the petition was handed to Henry upon the 2nd November. Norfolk had, however, advised the King not to give an immediate reply nor to commit anything to paper, advice which Henry readily took.
The King agreed that the grievances should be put before Parliament but did not give a date when this should take place. With great solemnity he declared “What King hath kept you all his subjects so long in wealth and peace… so indifferently minister justice to all both high and low, so defend you all from outward enemies; so fortified the frontiers of this realm, to his no little and in a manner inestimable charges? And all this for your wealth and sureties. From the pity and compassion of our princely heart to pardon all but the leaders.”
The representatives were completely won over and returned to Doncaster on the 17th, with an invitation for three hundred of their number to meet the Duke of Norfolk, the King's most trustie servant, on the 6th December at Doncaster.
Upon that day, ten knights, ten esquires and ten commoners met the Duke and it was agreed that all the articles should be put before parliament. The Lancaster Herald then read the free pardon and with some difficulty Aske persuaded his followers to return to their homes. But although the rebels dispersed the matter was far from over for the Duke remained in the north, suffering the rigors of the cold winter which had set in with bleak severity.
Henry had no intentions of keeping his promises – a fact the Duke had known from the beginning – and in the New Year the rounding up of the ringleaders began. The Lincolnshire men were the first and thirty-six were convicted and executed. Lord Hussey was beheaded in Lincoln and Lord Darcy on Tower Hill, along with the elder brother of Henry Percy whose other brother was confined to the Tower and the Earl himself was summoned to London to answer charges of unjustified treason. Like his former master, Henry Percy died en route.
To his consternation the Duke now received Henry’s grim orders for retribution.
“To cause such dreadful execution to be done upon a good number of the inhabitants of each town, village and hamlet as will by the hanging of them upon trees as by the quartering of them and the setting of their heads and quarters in every town great and small, as they may be a fearful spectacle to all others hereafter that would practice any like matter, which we require you to do without pity or respect!”
By the tone of this massive, Norfolk realised that his master would be satisfied with nothing less than a wholesale massacre. He knew where his duty lay – he could refuse. The thoughts of so much killing sickened him for he would be forced to massacre the families of men he respected and admired but to refuse meant to incur the wrath of the King and as he had once reminded Sir Thomas More – that was to court death and he was not the stuff that martyrs were made of.
Before making a start upon his horrible commission he sent his son home. Henry Howard was no coward but his father did not wish him to carry the forthcoming scenes of wholesale slaughter forever before his eyes for his son was a sensitive, poetic and hot-headed young man.
With ruthless brutality Norfolk carried out his task and through each town and village he passed men and women were hung, drawn and quartered and their heads and mutilated bodies were nailed upon the gates or their rotting corpses left swinging from the trees as a grim reminder of the King's wrath.
At last sickened by the wanton carnage the Duke called a halt and returned to London – two hundred and twenty persons had been executed upon his orders and in July, Robert Aske was hanged in chains at York.
The north would never rise again against the King.
The Duke returned once more to Kenninghall and lived quietly, attending to the affairs of his estates. Elizabeth had kept good her promise never to return and Bess Holland now headed the household. It was at Kenninghall in October 1539, that news reached him of the birth of Henry’s son and he was once more summoned to return to court and requested to stand godfather to the Prince.
It was a jubilant city that he entered a day later. Red and white wine flowed from the street conduits and the houses were decorated with scarlet cloth and bright tapestries hung from their upper stories. Tables bearing great quantities of food stood in the streets, while bonfires burnt brightly and the bells of every church rang out until his head ached with their clamour.
The King was at Hampton Court and the christening was to take place the following night, as was the custom.
The chapel was crowded and lit by hundreds of candles. Mary Tudor was the child’s godmother and Cranmer joined Norfolk as godfather. The Duke, of necessity, exchanged civil greetings with the hated Cromwell and Thomas Seymour and noted with chagrin that it was the elder Seymour brother, Edward (now created Viscount Beauchamp) who carried the four year old Elizabeth. He glanced idly at the child. She bore little resemblance to his dead niece, except for her eyes which were the same colour as her mother’s but there was no doubt as to who her father was.
His eyes moved to the Queen and he noted how ill she looked. Her skin seemed transparent and her cheeks and eyes burned with fever. She looked close to death, he thought. He had heard that her labour had been long and dangerous and the stage had finally been reached when it had become necessary to require the King to decide whether the life of the Queen should be saved or that of the child. With his usual, brutal frankness Henry had answered, “The child by all means, for other wives can be readily found!”
The ceremony was long but when it was finally over Norfolk noticed that Queen Jane seemed to have lapsed into unconsciousness. “But even if she dies her brothers will be uncles of the future king,” he thought. Jane had served her purpose and no doubt her brothers were grateful. The Duke thought grimly that his son's acid description of them was very marked: “Mushroom noblesse, newly sprung!” Henry Howard had remarked scathingly.
Jane Seymour died on the 24th October, due “to the neglect of those about her who suffered her to take cold and each such things as her fancy in sickness called for” Master Cromwell remarked. The court was plunged into mourning for despite his cruel remarks, Henry appeared to be overcome with grief. She was buried at Windsor on November 12th with all the honour due to a Queen who had at last provided England with its long hoped for heir.
The Duke returned this time to Framlingham. He was growing old, for he had seen sixty-five summers, and found that the comparative peace of the Suffolk countryside enabled him to renew his strength and gave him time to consider what could be done to further the downfall of his enemies.
This period of waiting proved advantageous for the King was once more being prevailed upon to take a new Queen, although the exact choice of consort was proving difficult. The Catholic princesses were not thought to be suitable so an effort was made to find a lady from the Protestant, German states.
There was some reticence upon the part of the ladies themselves. Christina, Duchess of Milan, remarked that “did she but have two heads, one of them would be at the disposal of the King of England!” while the French King flatly refused to par
ade the ladies of his domains like horses at a fair, a course of action which had been tactlessly suggested by Henry. At last the bride was chosen – the Princess Anne of Cleves – whom Cromwell assured his master was everything Henry desired, impressing upon him her portrait painted by Master Holbein. Henry was enchanted and Norfolk was sent for to meet the lady when she set foot upon the shores of her new country on 31st December, 1539, at Rainham Downes.
Poor Anne of Cleves had suffered a stormy passage and had been violently seasick all the way. When the Duke first set eyes upon her she was pale and drawn and rather bedraggled in appearance. She was also far from the beauty that Holbein's portrait depicted. She was big-boned and gauche, her skin pitted by the smallpox, her fair hair hanging damply about her shoulders and her gown so outlandish that the Duke was taken aback. She did not speak one word of English or Latin so the conversation was conducted in her far from perfect French.
The Duke thought grimly of Henry’s reaction when he set eyes upon her – the King was going to be a very disappointed man – and the Duke did not miss this opportunity to discredit Cromwell. “Who was it who had impressed upon his master her charms? Who was it who had advocated this marriage so strongly?” The King instantly seized upon Cromwell as a scapegoat (to the Duke’s delight) and summoned his unfortunate minister and demanded that a way out of the contract be found.
In fear and trepidation Cromwell pointed out that to send the lady home would be to anger her relations and jeopardise the goodwill which existed between England and the Lutheran States and so it was with extreme reluctance that Henry agreed to marry her for he could see no alternative in sight. Consequently Anne of Cleves became the second Queen Anne and Henry’s fourth wife.
Sickened by her loud, guttural voice, her complete lack of interest in music and poetry and her dubious physical attributes, Henry sought desperately to find a way out and the Duke now seized his opportunity. He discussed his plan with Bishop Gardiner, a man who shared his hatred of Cromwell.
“His Grace seeks to be rid of the Queen,” Gardiner remarked over supper, for the Duke had invited him to Norfolk House to enlist his support, “he would do anything to achieve his desire.”
“How much more so would he fret, Bishop, were his affections engaged elsewhere?”
“But they are not,” Gardiner replied.
“Not yet, My Lord Bishop, not yet! If he were enamoured of another lady Master Cromwell would be required to find some means of ridding the King of his unwelcome spouse upon peril of his life, do you not agree?”
Gardiner’s eyes gleamed, “Indeed, I see your meaning but where do we find this… lady?”
“Do you perchance remember my brother Edmund?”
“Vaguely,” Gardiner replied with some honesty.
“He died last year in Calais and his wife having died some years ago it was necessary for me to attend to his affairs. He had a large family most of whom, since the death of their mother, reside with relations. Upon a recent visit to my step-mother at Horesham, she brought to my notice one of my brother’s daughters. A pleasant, pretty girl of tender years and begged me find a place for her at court.”
Gardiner eyed him respectfully, “So he aims to place another niece upon the throne,” he thought. Aloud he asked, “You think that this girl has possibilities?”
“I think so.”
“She can be easily advised?” Gardiner enquired thinking of the Duke’s other self-willed niece.
Norfolk grasped his meaning, “I am certain we shall encounter no opposition in this case!” he firmly assured the Bishop. “Catherine Howard is a simple, open child and as yet is unaware of the honour afforded her.”
“But will she agree to it... the King is no longer a young man and perhaps she will remember the fate of her cousin.”
The Duke looked at him coldly, “Do not fear, she will not refuse. I have yet to meet the woman who would refuse such honours and wealth that will be showered upon Catherine. My niece has lived in rather sheltered circumstances, a fact which I am sure we will find to our advantage.”
“If we can achieve this undertaking then it will be but a short step to achieving our ultimate aim. Some pretext should be easy to find to deprive Cromwell of his power – perhaps even of his head.”
“Quite so,” the Duke answered quietly.
“Then I leave the matter safely in your hands.”
“I shall not fail, Bishop, of that you can be assured! Now… will you partake of some fine roasted venison, I have an excellent cook,” the Duke offered as the meal continued.
Six
Apart from the bitter hatred the Duke entertained for Cromwell as a man, he also hated the new learning which Cromwell and Cranmer encouraged and nurtured. The previous September the government had instructed every parish to purchase a Bible so that their congregations could read it at will. Six copies had been sent to St Pauls’ but upon being asked his views upon the subject the Duke had replied tersely, “I never read the scriptures nor never will. It was merry in England afore the new learning came up, yea, I would all things were as they had been in time past!”
At the threat imposed by Cranmer and his doctrinal changes the old nobility laid aside their past differences and banded together with Norfolk and Gardiner at their head. Norfolk pointed out discreetly to the King that should these changes take effect the French King or the Emperor or even both may possibly decide to act upon the Pope’s edict and invade England in the guise of crusaders.
Henry, now Head of the Church, was still a very orthodox man – although he executed Catholic and Lutheran alike with complete impartiality – and he considered the Duke’s advice very carefully.
Norfolk left him to contemplate the position and went to Horesham to see his step-mother and his niece. He was shown into Agnes’ apartments by a sour-faced woman by the name of Lasalles.
“Thomas! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Agnes greeted him.
“I have good news for you, Madam.”
She heaved herself out of her chair motioning him to silence and crossed to the door. Opening it quickly but finding no eavesdropper she closed it again and returned to her seat. “She has a very nasty habit of listening at keyholes, that Lasalles,” she informed him. “Pray be seated, will you take a little wine?”
He sat down while Agnes poured him a goblet of wine.
“What news has brought you here?” she questioned, handing him the drink.
“I have obtained a post at court for your grand-daughter.”
“For Catherine?”
“Yes, for Catherine.” The Duke studied the goblet wondering whether he could trust Agnes with his plan. He decided that he would have to tell her if he wished to enlist her aid. “I want you to bring her to Lambeth.”
“Certainly,” Agnes replied tilting her head questioningly as she popped a piece of sticky marchpane into her mouth.
“She appears to be an open, modest girl, will she be guided by the advice of her elders?”
Understanding began to dawn upon Agnes. “She will, she is not self-willed,” she answered firmly although she was a little uneasy and hoped that her step-son would not press her further upon the question of Catherine’s modesty for she had upon two occasions beaten the girl for unseemly behaviour with her music master and there had been a disturbing incident with young Dereham, but as he had taken himself off to Ireland she saw no need to mention these lapses to the Duke.
“The girl could achieve great things… given the right opportunities and the right guidance,” he continued, “Do you understand?”
“I understand perfectly and I will give you all the assistance I can,” Agnes promised.
“Then bring her to Lambeth within the week and make sure she is suitably attired for if my memory serves me correctly, the last time I saw her her attire was rather shabby.”
Agnes sighed and studied her plump, beringed hands. “It has not been easy caring for Edmund’s children, the cost of good raiment is so expensive!�
� she complained.
“Then I shall see to it that the necessary funds are provided, will you send for her?”
Agnes picked up a bell that lay upon the table beside her and shook it vigorously. After a few minutes the sour-faced Lasalles appeared.
“Fetch Mistress Catherine Howard here at once.”
The woman curtsied and retired, returning in a short space of time with Catherine.
“Come here child, your Uncle Norfolk wishes to see you. You may go, Lasalles and do not linger listening at the door!” Agnes sharply dismissed her maid.
Catherine curtsied to her uncle.
The Duke ran his eyes over her appraisingly. She was very tiny of stature, hardly bigger than a child, her hair was light auburn and was drawn back beneath her hood. Her skin was fair and unblemished and her eyes were hazel, fringed with auburn lashes. Although she was tiny, he noticed that she was well formed and that there was about her an air of seductive awareness of her charm. He decided that she would suit his purpose very well.
“Your uncle has good news for you, Catherine, he has obtained for you a position at court and I am to take you to Norfolk House at the end of the week.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement, “Thank you, Uncle!”
“You are an obedient, honest girl, Catherine?” he asked.
“Oh, yes!”
“The position is not a greatly exalted one but with my guidance and that of your grandmother, perhaps in time you may achieve something a little higher.”
“Shall I see the King?” she asked.
“I hope you shall see a great deal of the King,” her uncle replied.
The White Lion of Norfolk Page 9
