‘Let’s hope that’s the last we see of her,’ Nurse said. ‘That rasping voice is not fitting for a nursery.’
‘I think she has a cold,’ I ventured.
‘She always speaks thus,’ Lady Bryan told Nurse. ‘That gruff voice of hers is deeper than the King’s. Everyone remarks upon it.’
*
There was another red-haired girl in the palace. That made three of them. Three Tudor roses with pale skin and bright hair, just like the King: the Lady Mary, the Princess Elizabeth and this other girl. She was about nine or ten years old and was dressed like a lady. I saw her once or twice sitting by the cradle with Mistress Blanche.
‘We both love little Princess Elizabeth, don’t we Blanche,’ the girl said. ‘We want to stay with her for ever.’
I asked Nurse about her.
‘Her name is Katherine. That’s all you need to know about her. You ask too many questions for a lowly serving maid. Folks who ask no questions aren’t told lies.’
*
Lady Mary had a miserable Christmastide. She spent whole days in her chamber praying and weeping. She demanded that food be cooked especially for her and brought to her chamber, which, Lady Shelton told Nurse, added greatly to the costs of running the household. Still she refused to acknowledge Elizabeth as Princess and the King’s heir. For this she had to be punished. Lady Shelton made her eat in the hall with everyone else. Her father sent her no gift at New Year although she sent one to him. Then, in mid-January, he did something I thought very cruel. He visited Hatfield and refused to see her. My father would never have done that; I knew he wouldn’t, even if we had quarrelled, even if I had had a terrible temper and stamped my feet.
Lady Bryan dabbed her eyes with her kerchief as she sat by Nurse’s fireside sipping her wine that evening. ‘She asked leave to kiss his hand and even this was refused.’
Lady Shelton sat beside her wearing a new, rustling, deep-green taffeta gown with fur trimmed sleeves. I knew it was bad manners, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her new gable hood. It sparkled with emeralds and had long embroidered lappets that were wrapped around the back in a fancy pleat and pinned on top.
‘Do not look to place the blame upon me,’ Lady Shelton said. ‘It was not at my suggestion that His Majesty shunned her. Lady Mary is as stubborn a maid as any man could have for a daughter, but I would not have denied her a loving reunion with her father.’
The Hatfield servants gossiped freely about who was to blame. Sitting at dinner in the hall, the King’s guards had blabbed that shortly after King Henry had set off for Hatfield, Master Cromwell, the King’s chief minister, had ridden with haste to deliver an urgent message to the King. It was from Queen Anne. The message warned the King that the Lady Mary should be taught a firm lesson. Henry should refuse to see his daughter.
‘Almost every day since she came to Hatfield, Lady Mary has asked of me when the King will come,’ Lady Shelton said. ‘This morning, she waited upon a terrace and when she saw the King’s harbingers arriving in the courtyard she withdrew to her apartment and called for her ladies to put her into the best attire she could find. She was most charming and pleasant to me today when I visited her chambers and indeed, admired my new gown.’
As well she might, I thought, for there was no new gown or bright jewels for the deposed princess. How she must miss her beautiful clothes. If I were the Lady Mary, I knew I would have curtseyed to a baby sister if it meant that I could wear princess clothes and jewels again.
‘When the King was leaving she went upon a terrace and watched him mount his horse and quite by chance he saw her kneeling there and bowed and put his hand to his cap.’ Lady Shelton spoke kindly. ‘There is some consolation in that.’
‘The King would do as much for any beggar at the roadside,’ Lady Bryan said.
‘She owes obedience to her father,’ Lady Shelton snapped, ‘and it is my thankless duty to ensure that this is so.’
‘In truth, I think I am the only person who understands just how much the young princess has lost at the King’s new marriage.’
‘Young princess? Watch your tongue, madam, while you reside in my house. I think you mean the Lady Mary. It was hard for Lady Mary to have her household dissolved.’ Lady Bryan sighed and dabbed her eyes. ‘She was so proud of her green and blue livery. It is humiliating for her to see her servants now wearing the King’s colours again as they did when she was a small child.’
‘And who should she blame for her reduced circumstances?’
Lady Bryan blew her nose and said nothing.
Lady Shelton idly traced the leafy embroidery on her glittering new sleeve. ‘It is her mother who has charged her to defy the King. Lady Mary is heedless of any advice except it be from her mother and that meddling imperial ambassador, Chapuys. It is they who have induced her to refuse to acknowledge my niece as Queen and her daughter as heir.’
‘I remember a time when Lady Mary was small,’ Lady Bryan said sadly. ‘The Thames was frozen for days and the King took her skating on the ice. He was so very proud of her, his only child, and loved showing her off to the courtiers and the public who were out visiting the frost fair.’
‘Those times have gone, Lady Bryan. Fortunately for you, your responsibility lies solely with little Princess Elizabeth. There is no need for you to fret over Lady Mary. It is I who am in charge of this entire household and have to cope with her tantrums, wiles and whims. Was she ever of a stubborn nature, since childhood?’
‘Not stubborn, no. Yet serious about religion and her studies even when she was very young. It is a great shame that Doctor Featherstone was not brought here to continue with her tuition. It would be a distraction for her. Her farewells to the good doctor and her old governess, after so many years, must surely have added to her sadness.’
‘What? Lady Margaret Pole, that ancient woman?’
Lady Bryan stopped sniffing. ‘That lady does not precede me by so many years and the King and Queen Anne have seen fit to give me charge of their little daughter.’
Lady Shelton ignored her and stroked her fur cuffs. ‘I would have thought that Lady Mary would welcome a younger, more fashionable lady governess, such as myself, and would be glad to put aside her studies and direct her mind to other, more adult pursuits. Sir John and I have been blessed with a large and happy family. The King and Queen have required us, rather than others, to take charge of this joint household no doubt due to our greater understanding of the bringing up of children. My own daughter, Madge, is a lively girl and might have brought some cheerfulness into Lady Mary’s apartments were she not favoured to be a maid-of-honour to my niece, the Queen.’
‘I’ll thank you to keep Lady Mary away from my nursery, my lady, if you please,’ Nurse intervened, ignoring Lady Shelton’s raised eyebrows. ‘Her melancholic humour will affect the Princess Elizabeth. Should she become fretful the blame will be put upon me. The doctors will say there is black bile in my milk.’
‘All these tempers and tears,’ Lady Shelton sighed. ‘The doctor recommends bloodletting to balance Lady Mary’s humours. I dare not permit it. Her health is such a worry to me. She is the King’s daughter, after all, and if anything should happen to her ...’
Lady Bryan was all sympathy. ‘In truth, Lady Shelton, I do not envy you your responsibilities. She has changed so much since I cared for her. I scarcely recognise her for the pretty, smiling little child King Henry carried on his shoulders and who delighted foreign ambassadors with her skill in languages and her dancing.’
‘What foreign prince will want to marry Lady Mary?’ I asked Mistress Blanche later that evening. ‘She’s not a real princess anymore, just the King’s bastard daughter.’
Chapter 14
February 1534
‘My Lady Shelton is all of a fluster,’ Nurse said. ‘Sir John has just this morning received notice that Queen Anne is coming to visit.’ She put the sleeping Princess Elizabeth into Mistress Blanche’s arms and laced her bodice.
‘She wasn
’t in a fluster when the King came,’ I said.
‘Well, she is now. Her niece, it seems, will be more difficult to please than His Majesty.’ Blanche settled Elizabeth into her cradle.
‘Let the girl rock her,’ Nurse said,’ I have some news.’ She steered Mistress Blanche and myself into the doorway of her sleeping chamber. ‘I have it from Lady Bryan, who has heard it from Lady Shelton, who has read in a letter from her daughter Madge, who is maid-of-honour to Queen Anne, that the Queen is of late finicky with her food.’
‘Is the Queen with child?’ I asked.
‘It is too early to be sure.’ The nurse put her finger to her lips and glanced inside the nursery where the girl rocked the princess’s crib. ‘Lady Shelton’s daughter writes that the Queen has been feeling sickly of late and is very partial to apples.’
‘Then she is with child,’ I said, unable to contain my excitement. ‘She had a great lust for apples last time.’
Nurse raised her eyebrows and gave me a long stare.
‘Mistress Pudding told me,’ I said defensively, wishing I had kept my mouth shut.
‘Will you wean Princess Elizabeth early so that you can nurse the new baby?’ Mistress Blanche asked.
‘The King and Queen will not want Princess Elizabeth to be weaned until she is two years old,’ Nurse said and sighed. ‘I fear I have lost my chance to nurture a future king.’
‘It will be wonderful indeed to have another child in the royal nursery,’ Mistress Blanche said.
‘It may not be so wonderful when the Queen visits,’ Nurse said sourly. ‘Lady Shelton verily believes that the Queen will find all kinds of faults with her housekeeping and, as for the Lady Mary’s behaviour, we all know what the Queen will think of that. The abiding question is this. What will she do about it?’ Nurse handed me the washing basket. ‘Now, off you go to the laundry and mind, Avis, not a word to anybody.’
The laundress wiped her blistered, brick-red hands on her damp apron and sorted the washing into piles. For Nurse: two bedsheets, one tablecloth, three open fronted shifts, eight breast clouts, two lawn aprons and two wimples. For the Princess Elizabeth: four, finest lawn biggin caps, six bibs, five fine cambric smocks, four rolls of swaddling bands, ten tail-clouts, six bedsheets wrought with black and gold embroidery for her great bed of state, and eight fine cambric sheets for her little bed.
‘And now your own washing, Avis. Two shifts, two aprons and one coif.’
‘My aunt is a laundress at Greenwich Palace,’ I told her.
‘She’ll be a member of the Guild of Secret-Keepers like me. Does your aunt wash the Queen’s clothes?’ she asked.
‘Only the household washing, but she also does a little midwifery,’ I boasted.
‘I dare say your aunt helps all kinds of women and keeps their secrets.’
I didn’t like this kind of talk. ‘If she has to deliver a child out of wedlock she is obliged to ask the father’s name and tell the priest, as every woman knows,’ I said.
‘That’s as may be. Now, tell me this. Who is the first to know if a wench is with child?’
‘Why, the wench herself of course.’
‘If an unmarried girl don’t want to believe it, she’s the last person to know. It’s the laundress who washes her shifts and her clouts who first notices the months going by and if it be a maid unwed it’s the laundress who might know a cunning-woman who knows what to do. However, in your case, I dare say your aunt would ...’
I felt my cheeks flush. Hot tears stung my eyes. ‘I’m not that sort of girl.’
‘Just thought I’d mention it, my dear, like I do to all the girls. No need for you to go all uppity about it. In the absence of your aunt there might come a time when I could be of help. I only charge what girls can readily pay.’
Mother would have been horrified to hear the laundress speak to me like this.
‘You’ve no cause to speak thus to me, as if I were a common slut,’ I said, hearing my voice tremble with anger. ‘If you seek to make money from unchaste girls who find themselves in trouble, don’t look to me for your dirty business.’
The laundress laughed. ‘You’re a maid in a household filled with male servants. There’s these two dull-witted girls who help me here, the rocking girls who are either sleeping or rocking or both, an ugly water-maid or two, and yourself, who is pretty and always out and about running errands around the house and garden. Lord, Avis, do you think you haven’t been noticed?’
Always, I was the wench who belonged everywhere and nowhere.
The laundress took the sheets and tablecloths to the buck tub. I had helped Aunt Bess in the laundry at Greenwich once or twice so I knew what a skilled job it was to fold and set the linen.
‘I can’t trust these girls to place the sticks between the linen so that the water will run through every clout. Anice, Bridget,’ she called, when the tub was full, ‘Pour the ley and carefully, mind, ‘tis scolding hot.’
The girls struggled to lift the steaming jugs. They were very young; sulky children who wanted to play.
‘I suppose I should be thankful for whatever help Lady Shelton sends,’ the laundress said, ‘and these girls should be thankful to be learning housekeeping skills in a royal palace. When they wed, if any man’ll have ‘em, they’ll know how to keep their husband’s shirts white.’
She took Princess Elizabeth’s little clothes to a smaller tub. ‘The princess’s linen is too fragile for the bucking tub,’ she explained. She scooped a small amount of soap from a pot. It was not the black, jelly-like soap that I had seen Aunt Bess use, but white and hard. ‘Your aunt will not use costly Castile soap for washing servants’ linen in the buck or slapping it about in the river. I use it very sparingly. Lady Shelton makes me to pay for the soap myself.’
‘How do you wash these?’ I pointed to the black and gold embroidery on the princess’s sheets.
‘They need to be soaked in fresh, warm urine for half an hour before washing to stop the colour running.’
‘Could leather be made colour fast like this?’ I asked, thinking of my red purse, hidden beneath my skirts which I feared to wear in the rain even though mother had rubbed tallow into the hide to make it waterproof.
‘What bright leather would a wench like you be inquiring of?’
‘Only my Lady Shelton’s gloves,’ I lied.
‘Then Lady Shelton must make enquiries of the tanner. I don’t get paid to wash my lady’s gloves, nor her linen. She has her own laundress. Her ladies brush her gowns and furs. I’m responsible only for the princess’s linen and the nursery napery. Anice, Bridget,’ she called, ‘you’ll assist me by using the piss pot now, if you please. She turned to me. ‘After they’ve been, Avis, it’s your turn, and mine. Then the girls can fetch a couple of stable boys to oblige. Knowing that you would be bringing the princess’s washing today I told ‘em to drink ale all morning and to hang on ‘til I sent for ‘em, and the gardener and his lad.’
While the sheets steeped in the pot the laundress sent the girls to walk about the garden to take the air. ‘Only for a little while, mind, idle-worms breed in the fingers of lazy wenches.’
Bridget looked worried and examined her fingernails. Anice smirked and dragged Bridget to the door.
‘You’ve to return in time to sit at the tap and let out the ley,’ the laundress warned them.
‘We’ll see if you manage to turn the linen in the buck better than last time.’
I took up my basket and followed them to the door.
‘Ain’t you going to ask me who’s been a-watching you?’ the laundress asked in a simpering tone.
‘Truly, I have no wish to know.’
‘Well, there’s a pity, for he was a good looking boy and he left something for you. Stay a moment while I fetch it.’
She brought a small cloth bundle tied with blue and yellow ribbons.
‘Here’s a pretty Valentine’s gift for a maid from her sweetheart; a pomander, I think.’ She sniffed it.’ Orange peel, mustar
d, mint and rosemary, I believe. Surely, you know the meanings of herbs, Avis. This is a love potion. Don’t you wish to know who brought it?’
‘No thank you.’
‘Either, you are too proud to ask, young lady,’ the laundress said, while she tied the ribbons around my waist, ‘or you know more than you wish to tell.’
I didn’t reply, only cursed myself for I could feel the colour spreading all over my face again.
‘Oh, so that’s the way it is.’ She lowered her voice to a sulky grumble. ‘You have secrets you don’t wish to share. There may come a time when you have cause to remember that you have shunned the Guild of Secret-Keepers.’
‘Thank you for washing my shifts and caps,’ I replied curtly. ‘Nurse requires the princess’s laundry to be washed, dried and pressed in good time for Queen Anne’s visit.’
I turned my back, tightened my lips and, pretending I was the Lady Mary, strode away with my head high and gave the laundress no ‘good day’.
The garden was quiet. I sat on a stone bench to examine my gift. The laundress was right. Inside the bag I found dried mint, mustard and rosemary sprigs and an orange that had been cut in half, the flesh removed and the two shells joined with twine. When I shook it something moved around inside; a herbal twig perhaps, or maybe an acorn. It would be a shame to spoil the pomander by taking it apart.
Nurse noticed the pomander dangling from my waist immediately I returned. I told her it was a gift from my aunt at Greenwich.
‘Have the King’s carpenters visited Hatfield of late?’ I asked, matter of fact.
‘Since the alterations for Princess Elizabeth in December? No girl. Why do you ask?
‘It is of no matter, Nurse.’
She eyed me inquisitively, glanced at the pomander but said nothing.
*
I had to return the princess’s sheets to the laundress. They were not bleached white enough. My Lady Bryan spoke sharply to Nurse.
‘Any little fault will be perceived by the Queen as an insult to the princess’s status. Feed her enough to keep her content and not so much that she sicks it up. And check her tail-clouts often. There must be no rank smell about her nether regions when she goes to the Queen.’
Mayflowers for November: The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn Page 10
