In The Midst of Madness: Tudor Chronicles Book Two

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘I hope her integrity remains intact then, sweet Meg. I don’t want to try another Queen!’ They were both silent for a while, remembering.

  ‘So, Ralph Sadler, factions? You were going to tell me about factions?’

  ‘It’s still strange to me, my Meg. People I thought were in one camp have changed their coat and are now in the other. For example, Ned Seymour is leaning towards the Lutheran faith, something I never thought to see. He and Cranmer are always closeted together, whispering. While Tom Wriothesley has started seeing more of Norfolk and Stephen Gardiner than ever.’

  ‘Tom and … Norfolk? Really? That’s very strange, Ralph. Do you think they’re plotting against the Queen? Because she’s Lutheran? Norfolk can’t have any more Howard girls he wants to put in front of the King, Ralph. He just can’t!’ Meg was starting to become upset, thinking about Kitty.

  ‘They’re just talking at the moment, my love. That’s all I meant. But the times mean we have to be careful. And I’d like to be able to protect this Queen, my love. So if you see anything you think I should know, please tell me, knowing I would want to help her.’

  ‘I will, Ralph, I promise,’ Meg leaned forward and kissed him gently.

  ***

  ‘Tommy Knollys! If you bite that dog’s tail, that dog will bite you!’

  At the sound of her voice, Tommy Knollys looked over to his mother and beamed his smile, full of brand new teeth. He looked longingly at the dog’s tail, idly swishing backwards and forwards in a hypnotic motion. He looked back at his mother, far over there, sitting by the window, and bent his open mouth closer to the tempting tail. Suddenly he was grasped from behind and thrown up into the air, and he shrieked his delight. So much more fun than being bitten by a dog!

  ‘Now I’ve got you, my lovely!’ Mary caught him and lowered him to the floor, ‘Come, lovely boy. Let us show Mama and Lady Meg how well you can walk.’ Mary took both of Tommy’s hands and bending over him, walked him towards his mother, who laughingly stretched her arms out to him.

  ‘He’s not walking yet, Cat, but he’s perfected a swift crawl that easily takes him towards the next piece of mischief.’ Mary kissed the baby’s cheek before passing him to his mother.

  ‘Oh, my clever boy!’ Cat jiggled Tommy in her lap, pretending he was riding a horse, while Mary collapsed exhausted into the large chair near the fireplace. She poured three cups of small ale and passed the plate of sweetmeats to Meg, first taking one for herself.

  ‘You’ll not be able to do that much longer, my lovely,’ Mary nodded at Cat’s belly, four months along with her second baby. She hoped for a daughter. ‘Tell me all the gossip, my girls,’ said Mary, carefully licking honey from her finger- tips.

  ‘The court is quite settled and happy, Mother,’ said Cat, still bouncing Tommy on her knee while he pulled a sweetmeat apart and tried to cram both hands into his mouth at once.

  ‘Really?’ Mary was incredulous.

  ‘Well, it is so domestic. The King and Queen sit either side of the fireplace in the Queen’s apartments, discussing the events of the day, religion, politics, anything really. Princess Elizabeth is truly astonishing when they start a debate. She and Prince Edward take opposing sides, and she usually bests him. And the ladies and gentlemen of the court mingle, the other children are there, everything is lovely.’ Cat struggled to keep Tommy from wiping his sticky hands on her gown, standing up and holding him away from her helplessly. Meg rose and pulled the cord for Tommy’s nurse to come.

  ‘Ah, Cecily,’ a sigh of relief from Cat. ‘Take Tommy, would you. His hands need a wash, and I think he needs a new breech clout.’ She turned her son over, much to his delight, to show the nurse the wet patch at his back. Cecily laughed and took Tommy into her arms, heedless of his sticky fingers, and he waved at the gathered ladies happily.

  ‘See you soon, my lovely,’ Mary waved at her grandson as the door closed. ‘And the children, how are they?’

  ‘Well, Tom Seymour seems to have taken to Prince Edward. He takes him riding and helps him with his swordsmanship. He is often with the Prince and the Princess Elizabeth, riding. They seem to enjoy his company.’ Cat shrugged and took another sweetmeat.

  ‘Why would Tom Seymour be interested in children?’ wondered Mary aloud, and Meg looked at her sharply.

  Cat shrugged again and struggled to speak round a very full mouth. ‘He seems to enjoy himself, Mother. There is always lots of laughter.’

  ‘Hmph! Don’t trust him, either of you. The Seymours are, and always were, snakes of the lowest order. All of them. Two faced snakes. Don’t be taken in by their smiles. And don’t let yourself be left alone with Tom Seymour!’ She regarded them both with a serious expression on her kindly face.

  ‘He tried with me, Lady Mary, if you remember.’ Meg said quietly, sipping her drink.

  ‘I remember you telling me Ralph saved you, my lovely.’

  ‘Tom grabbed me and tore my dress, but Ralph made him go away.’

  ‘He tried with Kitty too, but Jane Rochford grabbed her before he could do anything. Jane told me.’ Cat looked at Mary and Meg’s horrified faces.

  ‘Keep away from him, my lovelies. He’s not a safe man to know.’ Mary nodded to herself.

  ‘I’m sure he’s changed,’ said Meg, remembering how much the Queen loved him. ‘Matured.’

  ‘Like a good wine,’ laughed Cat.

  ‘Hmph!’ muttered Mary. ‘There’s a fine line between maturing and mouldering. Look in my still-room at the cheese if you don’t believe me!’

  Both Cat and Meg collapsed into giggles at the thought of the grand Sir Thomas being compared to mouldy cheese. But they heeded Mary’s words all the same.

  Chapter 26 - 1547

  ary looked round at the damp stone walls, seemingly leaking moisture from the outside, even though they were immensely thick.

  ‘I had not ever thought to visit anyone else in this place, Uncle. Much less you!’ Mary put two bottles of her finest wine on the table, and a small jingling purse. ‘For bribes, Uncle. Mixed coins, in case one bribe is cheaper than another.’ She sat on the hard chair opposite Norfolk and looked properly at her Uncle, imprisoned in the Tower for plotting against the King.

  “He looks old,” she thought to herself, never having noticed before how old her Uncle actually was. He was always so vibrant with power and determination, he didn’t seem old to her.

  ‘Hell’s teeth, Mary! The King has gone mad! I’ve never plotted against the King!’ His voice, always loud, was rising, although the tone was cracked, like an old bell that hadn’t been used for a while.

  ‘Why would I, Mary? I have money enough.’ He gazed at her raised eyebrows, ‘I had influence and power. I was the head of the Privy Council, for God’s sake! And the Commander of the King’s Army, and the highest noble in the land, after royalty. Why would I plot against the King? On the soul of my Mary, I swear I am not guilty!’

  Mary knew that was the highest oath her Uncle could make. His daughter Mary Fitzroy, servant of many Queens and wife to Henry’s illegitimate son, had died the previous autumn of consumption. She had been Norfolk’s favourite child, and he had felt her loss keenly.

  ‘Uncle, the King has been mad for a long time, except everyone pretends he isn’t and works hard to make even the most insane decision a reality. He hasn’t been the same person since Tom Wyatt unhorsed him at the joust where Anne lost her baby. I think the blow to his head was worse than the injury to his leg, and God knows, that is truly terrible!’ Mary shook her head, remembering Henry as he had been, to her.

  ‘It is those bastards the Seymours, and those low-born rats Gardiner and Wriothesley. They want my positions for themselves. Ned Seymour and his glacia
l wife want to be second to royalty, Gardiner is a bible-thumping serpent and Wriothesley turns his coat more times than a Stanley or a Stafford!’ He looked at Mary and realised what he had said. Mary’s husband was a Stafford.

  Mary regarded him with equanimity, and covered his hand with hers on the table. ‘My husband is a wonderful man, but he knows what people say about his family. If his kinsman hadn’t ‘turned his coat’, Uncle, then the Tudors would not be on the throne. Henry should be damned grateful!’

  Mary was aware that her Uncle knew she referred to the battle of Bosworth Field. It was with this battle that Henry Tudor had won the crown from Richard Plantagenet. The armies commanded by Stafford and Stanley had changed sides and in doing so, had given Henry’s father the victory he needed to become the first Tudor King.

  ‘But you shouldn’t be here, Uncle, and I will petition the King to have you pardoned. He may not listen, because his head is being turned by the Seymour faction of snakes and rats as you say. Meg Sadler told me the King had approved an arrest warrant for the Queen, then had changed his mind.’

  Norfolk looked at her questioningly, ‘Meg Sadler?’

  ‘Ralph Sadler’s wife.’ Mary sighed her explanation. ‘He works with Thomas Wriothesley, remember?’ Mary wondered if his mind was going, being incarcerated in the Tower, but then realised he called all females, including her at times, ‘girly’ so he didn’t have to learn their names.

  ‘Oh, the little linen maid that landed herself a knight? The one that used to come trembling to Cromwell’s office? I miss Cromwell, you know. I never thought I would, because he was a peasant, but he knew his job! There was never any animosity with him; he did what Henry told him to. And if he thought Henry was wrong, he would procrastinate until the King changed his mind! No jockeying for position like these other low-born bastards!’ Norfolk was muttering now, filled with resentment and wine.

  ‘Meg is Lady Sadler, Uncle. She is the kindest, sweetest person I have ever known. It was she who went to the block with two of your nieces, and we shouldn’t forget that. We should always be grateful.’ Mary was indignant on Meg’s behalf, thinking how she had helped them with Anne, and how Mary couldn’t have got through that last awful night with Kitty without Meg’s gentle presence at her side.

  ‘But that is by the way. Wriothesley had persuaded Henry to agree to the arrest of the Queen, on charges of heresy. He is more Catholic than a brace of cardinals at the moment, you understand.’

  ‘Turncoat!’, growled Norfolk, pouring himself another generous cup of Mary’s wine.

  ‘But when he went to serve the warrant, the Queen was sitting in the garden with the King, and they were laughing and speaking together, and Henry actually beat Tom Wriothesley around the head with his bonnet, shouting at him and praising the Queen. But she looked shocking, Uncle; so frightened.’

  ‘Hmph!’ Norfolk shook his head in disgust. ‘And the other Tom, Tom Seymour. What is that serpent up to, Mary?’

  ‘Well, Ned has made him Chief Lord of the Admiralty, Uncle.’ A guffaw of laughter from Norfolk that almost made him spill his drink. ‘Sea serpent then!’ he muttered over the rim of his cup.

  ‘And he is great friends with Prince Edward and Princess Elizabeth. Not so much Mary, though.’ Her brow creased as she voiced that statement, but an awful thought had struck her.

  ‘Mary’s too old for Tom Seymour, girly. He likes ‘em young!’ Norfolk raised his eyebrow at Mary as she worked out what he was saying, and gasped, horrified.

  ‘She’s twelve, Uncle! And he must be in his thirties! Dear God, you don’t think he wants to marry her, do you? Or worse?’

  ‘She is royal, Mary. Whether Henry declares her legitimate or not, she is royal. And if Edward has no heir, and Mary is barren, then she may well be Queen one day! I have no doubt that Tom Seymour, idiot that he is, has had no trouble working that one out. And if he is a friend of Prince Edward, then perhaps Edward would like his sister to marry his uncle, eh?’

  ‘Oh, dear God, Uncle! Will this madness never end? It just seems to get worse!’

  Chapter 27 – 1547

  urmurs and rumours abounded and the Court seemed to be holding its breath. All the Queen’s ladies sewed shirts for the poor, whispering amongst themselves. The King’s gentlemen stood round the room and spoke of the weather and of horses. No-one dared to utter a word about the one thing on their minds they were doing their best to ignore. It was treason to even think about the death of the King, so how much worse would it be if they were overheard discussing it.

  Doctor Butts and his colleagues hurried in and out of the King’s bedchamber, not speaking to anyone in the ante-chamber, and the clergy and the Privy Council waited with barely concealed impatience, but throughout the King’s rooms could be heard the terrible sounds of a man fighting for every breath to remain on this earth.

  After the incident with the Queen and Wriothesley in the garden, Henry’s health had failed rapidly until he was even unable to sit unaided. His suppurating leg was poisoning him and the swelling throughout the rest of his body was astounding. He dragged every breath in with a disturbing rattle of his vastly bloated chest, then everything was still until he let it go with an agonising whoosh. Then everyone waited to see if the dying King could summon enough strength to take in another lungful of air.

  Doctor Butts had insisted that the Queen and the King’s children be sent for, but they were kept waiting in the ante-room with Archbishop Cranmer, while the leading members of the Council tried to force the semi-conscious Henry to sign his will and some outstanding warrants.

  Kate sat with her back straight and her arm round young Edward, whose eyes were huge in his nine-year old face as he watched the comings and goings from the King’s bedchamber. Kate’s other arm was round the shoulders of Elizabeth, who was biting her bottom lip in her anxiety and trying her best to murmur a prayer. Princess Mary stood ramrod straight, lips moving and although she didn’t have a rosary in her hands, it wasn’t difficult to see that she was reciting the prayers for the dead, as she compulsively touched the cross dangling from her belt.

  Raised voices could be heard inside the chamber, as Ned Seymour and John Dudley tried to convince the King he must sign, and Wriothesley’s voice could also be heard arguing with Doctor Butts. Over all this, the King’s ragged breathing dragged in and out of his ravaged body.

  Suddenly Doctor Butts appeared at the door and motioned Cranmer forward.

  ‘You must attend the King urgently, Archbishop,’ he turned his kindly gaze on Kate, who looked up at him with frightened eyes, ‘and you should bring in the children, your Highness.’

  Kate rose with dignity, holding hands firmly with Elizabeth and Edward, and she walked forward with Princess Mary into the bedchamber of Henry, who was a mountainous presence in the huge bed. The air in the room was fetid, with the stench of Henry’s poisoned leg hanging in the enclosed space, together with the smoke from the banked fire and the guttering candles. Kate felt Edward’s hand tremble within her own, and she gave it a firm squeeze.

  Cranmer was by the bed, blessing Henry and the King’s breathing was becoming more and more difficult. John Dudley, Earl of Warwick, moved quietly to Kate’s side and bending his head whispered gently, ‘The King signed his will, Highness, and my Lord Somerset and myself have been named as Lord Protectors for the young Prince.’

  Kate nodded absently, unable to take her eyes from the hugely bloated body of the King. Doctor Butts came to her other side, speaking in a hushed tone so others wouldn’t hear.

  ‘His Majesty doesn’t have long left, your Highness. The poisons in his body have taken a firm hold, and he has fluid in his lungs. His body is drowning itself, Highness. You should ask the children to say goodbye.’ Kate looked at the kindly Doctor and nodde
d helplessly, shepherding the King’s children to the bedside.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Kate spoke in a low tone, ‘My Lord, your children are here.’ She raised her voice in an effort to make Henry hear her over the volume of his own breathing, which stuttered for a moment as the King opened his eyes briefly. His hand flinched on the coverlet as his eyes flickered closed again. Kate took his hand and placed it gently on Edward’s bowed head.

  ‘Your son, my Lord. Your heir.’ Henry’s hand flinched again, as if he would give Edward his blessing but no longer had the strength. His breathing grew more ragged and Mary’s whispered prayers grew louder and more urgent. Cranmer’s voice droned on softly as everyone waited in the miasmic air for the King to draw his last painful, difficult breath.

  Foul air rattled out of Henry’s lungs, and his chest stilled. Everyone in the room looked at the King in the bed, expecting him to drag in another breath as he had been doing all morning, but there was only silence. The silence lengthened, and no-one was sure what to do, then Doctor Butts went over and listened to Henry’s chest and shook his head.

  ‘The King is gone, my Lord,’ he said quietly, looking at Ned Seymour who nodded once, and then knelt at Edward’s feet.

  ‘Majesty,’ he said, as one by one every person in the room dropped to their knees and bowed to the new King.

  ***

  ‘What will happen now, Ralph?’ Meg gazed up at her handsome husband as they walked in the garden at Hatfield House.

  ‘Edward will have a coronation, and will pardon the prisoners in the Tower. It is traditional, Meg, so Norfolk will go home to Kenninghall. And live quietly, if he’s got any sense. Tom Wriothesley is dreadfully angry that Henry died before he could sign Norfolk’s death warrant.’

  ‘Do you think Monseigneur was really plotting against the King, Ralph?’

  Ralph smiled at Meg, clutching his arm as they picked their way carefully over the wet paths, a hard December rain in the morning leaving puddles in its wake. But they felt better out of doors, because they could speak freely.