Alistair had gazed at her, gathering his thoughts before speaking: “Prior to your grandmother’s death, I would have told you to stop,” Alistair had said. “Your mother was killed because of what MI1 feared Mary had discovered, and my concern at losing any of you children would have been enough for me to refuse you access to her research or even allow you to consider delving back into the past. However, since Inigo Westbury has been in charge, things have changed. Much as it saddens me to admit this, I think even if you never looked at the research again, he would still come after you.”
“Why?”
“He wants to make his name in the Secret Service,” Alistair had said, and once again Perdita had the feeling he was not telling her the whole truth.
“Would continuing with the research and finding this incontrovertible truth that’s supposed to exist somewhere, keep us safe? If we discovered this secret, would it give us leverage over MI1 Elite?” she had asked.
“I think it might be the only thing that will save you.”
Perdita had left, once more making for the shore of Llyn Cel in order to organise the whirling, frightening thoughts that filled her mind.
After a few days of soul-searching and discussing things with both Piper and Kit, Perdita had made her decision. Confident in the knowledge that her sister was protected and would soon be by her side, she had decided to throw herself into uncovering and proving the truth that MI1 was so determined to keep shrouded in mystery. She would show them that she was a force to be reckoned with, even more so than her late grandmother. Now, she stood looking at Kit with anticipation.
“Traditional view first?” checked Kit, and Perdita nodded. He had barely left her side since the revelations, helping her to make copious notes which he began to read aloud. “No one knows exactly when or where Catherine Howard was born, but it’s thought to have been somewhere between 1521 and 1524 — recent historians favour the later date — possibly in London.”
Perdita wrote the two dates and the place on the board, underlining the second date, 1524, and putting the word: ‘BIRTH?’ next to it.
“Her mother was Jocasta Culpepper, spelt variously with a single or double ‘p’. We’ve decided to use the double ‘p’,” Kit continued. “She died sometime around 1527-8 because, in 1528 Catherine’s father, Edmund Howard, married a widow called Dorothy Uvedale.”
Perdita wrote this underneath Catherine’s possible birth date.
“But this marriage was short-lived because he married again a few years later, this time to another widow named Margaret Jennings, daughter of the Mundys of Markeaton Hall in Derbyshire.”
Perdita added the new name and said: “And this was while Edmund held the position of Comptroller of Calais, which he was given in 1531 thanks to his niece’s intervention. His niece being Anne Boleyn, the daughter of his elder sister, Elizabeth Howard who had married Thomas Boleyn. Edmund held this position until he died in 1539, but despite this, he was always in debt and scraping around to support his huge family.”
“Exactly,” said Kit. “Now, it’s thought Catherine was ‘put-out’ to the Lambeth home of her step-grandmother, Agnes Tilney, the dowager duchess of Norfolk, sometime in 1531.”
Perdita turned to the growing timeline. “Isn’t the next definite date 1536?”
“Yes, this is when it’s documented she received music lessons from Henry Manox, who was also said to have sexually assaulted her.”
Scowling at this, Perdita wrote it on the board. She then added a few extra details, “This was also the year of Anne Boleyn’s execution and Henry’s marriage to Jane Seymour.”
“The other odd thing here though, is the fact that Manox was never tried or punished for abusing Catherine,” said Kit thoughtfully. “Francis Dereham, who was also accused of touching her when she was in Lambeth, was executed, but Manox escaped even though he was questioned too.”
“Another anomaly in the life of Catherine Howard. Although, you have to remember this ‘affair’ wasn’t highlighted until 1541, when Catherine was in trouble, so it’s likely it was fabricated to make her seem even more flighty. It was Mary Lascelles who gave evidence about this,” continued Perdita, “and according to the history books, it was also Mary Lascelles who blew the whistle on Catherine’s former affair with Francis Dereham, and hinted at her supposed affair with Thomas Culpepper.”
“So, not an entirely reliable source,” Kit said.
“Exactly!” said Perdita. “What’s next?”
“In 1537, the extremely arrogant Francis Dereham arrived at Lambeth. He was originally having a fling with Joan Bulmer, who, it seems, may or may not have been one of Catherine’s ladies-in-waiting later on. Some historians think she was but a few believe she was never invited to court. Anyway, Francis soon transferred his affections to Catherine, allegedly calling her wife and insisting she call him husband. However, when the dowager duchess heard about it, Dereham was sent packing to Ireland.”
“Now we have a bit of a blank for Catherine, don’t we?” confirmed Perdita.
“Yes, she doesn’t appear again in any records until 1539. By then, Henry had married Jane Seymour, who gave birth to Prince Edward on 12 October 1537. She then died on 24 October 1537 and was buried in St George’s chapel in Windsor Castle. Shortly after, Thomas Cromwell began scouting around for a new bride for Henry. However, because he’d already executed one of his wives, it took a while to find someone willing. Finally, Anne of Cleves was selected as the winner of the Henry lottery and she arrived in England on 27 December 1539.
“In the run up to this, though, Thomas Howard, the duke of Norfolk, arranged for his niece, Catherine Howard to be a maid of honour to the new queen. Catherine left Lambeth for the king’s court in December 1539.”
“Yes, Anne of Cleves married Henry VIII on 6 January 1540 but it’s thought that by February 1540, the king was already involved with Catherine, although there are no records of how they actually met,” said Perdita. “So, it’s strange that, in March 1540, there were rumours suggesting Catherine was betrothed to her distant cousin, Thomas Culpepper.”
“It’s even stranger that, according to some sources, Francis Dereham challenged her about the rumours,” added Kit.
“Especially as he was supposed to have been banished to Ireland, so therefore shouldn’t have been at court, or know anything about it.”
“Exactly.”
Perdita’s timeline was slowly taking shape. She had divided the board into three sections: the first she was filling with details of what else was happening in the court at pivotal dates, the second listed all the accepted events of Catherine’s life, and the third column was currently blank. Perdita’s intention was to write in here what she viewed as the real story of Catherine Howard, as discovered by her grandmother, and see how the events compared.
“Now things become more interesting,” said Perdita. “Thomas Cromwell?”
“Oh, the lovely Cromwell,” said Kit. “On 18 April 1540, Henry created him Earl of Essex and Grand Chamberlain of England.”
“But his reign of power was short and probably not very sweet because, on 10 June 1540, barely eight weeks later, he was arrested for treason.”
“And on 26 June 1540, Anne of Cleves and her household were moved to Richmond Palace. On 6 July, Anne agreed to an investigation of her marriage. Then, after the shortest inquiry in history, Henry gave her a document on 7 July agreeing to an annulment, which she signed. On 28 July 1540, Thomas Cromwell was executed, then on the same day, Henry married Catherine at Oatlands Palace in Surrey, officiated by Edward Bonner, the Bishop of London. What an old romantic,” sighed Kit, and Perdita laughed.
“Catherine was his fifth queen,” said Perdita, drawing a crown.
“And it’s now that things become strange,” continued Kit, surveying what they had already collated on the board.
“Let’s keep going then,” said Perdita. “On 8 August 1540, Henry presented Catherine as queen at Hampton Court Palace, then two weeks later, on 22 Aug
ust, Henry and Catherine set off on a mini-progress taking in Windsor Castle and Reading before travelling to Ewelm, Rycott, Notley, Buckingham and Grafton. Then, in September, they travelled to Ampthill and then The Moor in Hertfordshire…”
“Which had once been the home of Cardinal Wolsey,” interrupted Kit, and Perdita nodded. “There are also records in 1540 of Catherine interceding on behalf of a number of people and being a financial patron.”
“All the time surrounded by rumours that she was pregnant,” added Perdita. “Although, it seems that, despite her supposed many lovers, she was never caught out. But, rather than concluding she was barren as so many historians have, there could actually be a far simpler explanation.”
“Which is…?”
“That perhaps she didn’t have any lovers, therefore no babies. And, perhaps the reason she never conceived with Henry was because he wasn’t capable.”
“Why, Dr Rivers, that’s treason!” exclaimed Kit.
“Off with my head,” she laughed. “What’s next?”
“On 3 January 1541, Anne of Cleves arrived at Hampton Court with two horses as a New Year present for Henry. This was the first time Anne and Catherine had seen each other since she became queen, and apparently Henry retired to bed and left the ladies to dance the night away.”
“More evidence for those dancing lessons,” said Perdita. “Next, in February 1541, Henry became seriously ill, and it has always been suggested that this was when Catherine might have begun her alleged relationship with Thomas Culpepper, although most of the detail about the so-called ‘affair’ conveniently came to light after Mary Lascelles’s accusations about Catherine. As with Jane Boleyn, historians are bemused as to why Culpepper — another successful career courtier — would risk trying to seduce the queen.”
“Meaning what?” asked Kit, looking up from their notes.
“Well, opinions are split,” continued Perdita. “Some scholars — mostly male, mostly Victorian — believe Catherine and Thomas were two lustful individuals who couldn’t control themselves; while modern historians believe that the relationship — if it happened at all — was never consummated. Although, it’s suggested that Catherine and Thomas were in love. Another recent feminist interpretation claims Culpepper blackmailed the queen into giving him sexual favours, or he threatened that he would tell Henry she hadn’t been a virgin when she married him. And yet another version has Culpepper blackmailing Jane Boleyn in order to get close enough to the queen to seduce her.
“So, whether he was a thorough cad or a man indulging in some courtly flirting, I think that the inability of scholars to be able to find any evidence on which they can agree means that the ‘affair’ probably didn’t happen. The fact both Jane and Thomas present such problems for historians even now, shows there was something suspicious about their representations in Catherine’s story.”
Kit nodded. “Well argued, Dr Rivers,” he said with mock seriousness. She threw a marker pen at him and he ducked. “However, by March 1541, the king had recovered and still besotted, he threw a water pageant for his lovely new bride. In April, Catherine pleaded for the release of her half-brother John Leigh from the Tower of London. A few days later, she summoned Culpepper to her chambers to give him a gift of a velvet cap and a brooch, which was not an unusual thing to do in her position as queen.”
“By June 1541, they were on progress with the queen rumoured to be unwell for some of it,” continued Perdita. “By August things were going awry for Catherine. On the sixth, watchmen found a door unlocked and it has been suggested that this was how Catherine and Culpepper met for naughty night-time liaisons, then on 27 August, Francis Dereham was placed in Catherine’s household as her secretary.”
“Which is utterly bizarre,” commented Kit. “If she really had been having some sort of relationship with him during her time at Lambeth, why would anyone in their right mind put him so near her again? Anyway, shortly after this on 29 August, Mary Lascelles approached Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, with information about the queen’s ‘lewd’ behaviour.”
“And now everything begins to unravel for Catherine,” sighed Perdita. “By November, Cranmer had told Henry of the accusations and Catherine was confined to her quarters while there was an investigation.”
“After Cranmer interviewed Catherine and she denied everything, her brother Charles Howard was banished from the king’s privy chamber and on 11 November 1541, Catherine was removed to Syon Abbey in Isleworth with her half-sister, Isabel Baynton, and three other women.”
“Interestingly, on 15 November 1541, there was a rumour that a son born to Henry and Anne of Cleves was being hidden in Anne’s home. However, an investigation by the king and his council exonerated Anne and her household,” said Perdita.
“On 22 November 1541, Catherine was stripped of her title as queen — she was now known simply as Lady Catherine Howard — and after this, her family was slowly rounded up and questioned, all of whom dropped the poor child in it even further.”
“On first December 1541, Culpepper and Dereham — but not Manox — were found guilty of treason at the Guildhall in London. They were executed on 10 December 1541 at Tyburn. A number of Catherine’s relatives and ladies-in-waiting were also found guilty of treason and forced to surrender their titles, land and goods, as well as being imprisoned for life. These included Agnes Tilney, the dowager duchess of Norfolk, Katherine Tilney, Joan Bulmer, Anne Howard, Margaret Benet and Alice Restwold. In January 1542, the Bill of Attainder — aka the execution warrant — against Catherine and Jane Boleyn, who was supposed to have been her accomplice, was introduced to Parliament and, after a few attempts, was passed in absentia of dear old Henry,” said Perdita. “In the eyes of the law and the king, they were already dead,” she continued. “The reason they were condemned under a Parliamentary bill was because it avoided giving them a trial. Passing an attainder — which means ‘tainted’ — was an ancient way for the reigning monarch to do as he pleased without anyone else’s interference — no jury, no trial, no possibility of anyone being acquitted. Culpepper and Dereham did not have ‘execution warrants’ because they had been tried in a court and found guilty.
“On the tenth of January 1542, the dukes of Suffolk and Southampton escorted Catherine and Jane to the Tower of London — Catherine was hysterical and Jane had supposedly gone mad — then on 11 February 1542, the Bill became law and, on the morning of 13 February, Catherine Howard and Jane Boleyn were executed and their remains buried in the Church of St Peter ad Vincula in the grounds of the Tower.”
Next, they moved to the blank section and began filling in the details and anomalies flagged by Mary in her manuscript and other conclusions and discoveries they had made themselves until eventually, they had what Perdita described as a Map of Time.
Standing back to admire their work, Perdita turned to Kit with a satisfied smile, “When you lay it out like this,” she said. “The ‘accepted’ version looks less and less robust.”
“It’s definitely shaky,” he agreed. “The trouble is, even with the Book of Hours backing up a few bits from the codex, ours is largely conjecture. It’s a great theory, but MI1 could refute every claim we’ve made.”
“Yes, frustrating, isn’t it?” replied Perdita. “Although, last night, I was going through the Book of Hours again…”
“When did you do that?” asked Kit in surprise.
“I haven’t been sleeping well and I came down for an hour or so,” she admitted. “Anyway, and you might dismiss this but, near the back is a tiny drawing,” she put down her marker pen and walked to the foam wedges where the Book of Hours lay closed. Opening it carefully, she turned the pages until she found what she was looking for, then weighted the book open with ropes of heavy beads. “Look,” she said, pointing to a small ink sketch, “do you think that could be Marquess House before all the extensions were built?”
Kit considered it.
“It certainly looks similar. There are original plans in t
he archive, we could check,” he rummaged in his bag and removed an eyeglass before examining the small sketch.
Perdita watched him for a moment, then walked towards the window where she perched on the low sill, waiting for Kit to finish studying the image. One finger went to her hair and she began unconsciously curling a strand around it while she thought.
“Where are you going with this, Perds?” asked Kit, straightening up.
“I have a theory,” she said, “and seeing all this laid out in front of us has helped me clarify a few thoughts.”
Kit leaned against the table, giving Perdita his full attention.
“I knew you’d found something,” he said. “Your brain is even sharper than Mary’s and it was always fascinating to watch her work through her theories. Have you discovered something else or made a crazy connection?”
“A connection, I think. It was you and your dad who gave me the idea,” she said. “When you told me about those letters from Penelope Fitzalan, the ones Lettice found when she first bought the house. They mention a ruby ring and a secret she was prepared to die to protect.”
“Do you think they were real?” mused Kit. “I wondered if they were Victorian fakes.”
“I asked your dad and he confirmed that Mary had them dated. They’re seventeenth century, so they’re the right period. Not only that, a Penelope Fitzalan is named as the author of The Llyn Cel Mermaid and Other Local Legends, so whoever this person was, she’s definitely connected to Marquess House,” said Perdita.
“Are you saying you think Penelope Fitzalan was somehow linked to Catherine Howard, and the ruby ring she mentions is the one referred to in the codex?” asked Kit. “Isn’t that a bit of a leap?”
“On its own, yes, but remember what else your dad said, the secret Penelope was hiding was supposedly hidden somewhere in this house.”
“But Mary searched and searched. She didn’t find anything.”
“You’re missing my point. The treasure was supposed to be in Marquess House. The ring was with Penelope and she wrote about the lake attached to this house, and then there’s this image, possibly of Marquess House in its early days, in a Book of Hours we’re fairly certain belonged to Kathy Knollys.”
The Catherine Howard Conspiracy Page 32
