by David Field
XVIII
Shortly after the celebration of the New Year in 1537, the various royal palaces in and around London rang with the news that Queen Jane was with child. She had never been afforded any coronation ceremony, ostensibly because of the latest outbreak in London of the Plague that was currently holding the population in the grip of terrified anticipation. It appeared to be no respecter of rank, and it struck quickly.
‘Fine at breakfast, dead by supper’ was a popular way of describing the devastating speed with which the sickness could carry off someone who had become infected, and once the royal physicians had confirmed that Jane was indeed with child, there could be no suggestion of exposing her to the miasma of breaths from the London crowds that would line her coronation route. However, and as compensation once she began to swell visibly with the next royal offspring, Henry had Jane publicly proclaimed Queen. She was then confined to a special suite of rooms at Hampton Court Palace, where those allowed to come and go in and out of her presence were strictly vetted.
Richard was hoping that he would not be one of those, but his worst fears were realised when he was ordered by Cromwell to resume the same daily attendance upon the Queen that had first exposed him to the wiles of Jane Rochford, which he now wanted to avoid, and which he trusted he could resist if called upon. When he tried to protest, Cromwell proved adamant.
‘There are some even yet who blame me for the downfall of the night crow, but it was the information that you brought back to me that enabled me to advise Henry of the sad state into which his marriage had fallen. So, in that sense, Anne’s downfall was of your making.’
‘Don’t drop that shit on me,’ Richard protested. ‘I merely brought you the bricks upon which you built your house of lies. The finest pile of stone blocks still requires a skilled stonemason to convert it into a cathedral. Without you, those bricks I brought back with me would have remained simply a pile of unused masonry. But surely you do not apprehend that our new Queen keeps a similar menagerie of aging whore-masters about her?’
‘Of course not. By all accounts her new afternoon gatherings are the height of decorum, and frequently graced with Henry’s presence. However, I wish you to report back to me if there is any reference to the reinstatement of the Lady Mary into Henry’s plans for the future of England. He constantly complains to me that Jane is ever in his ear, seeking to persuade him to reconcile with Mary, particularly now that Elizabeth has also been bastardised.’
‘Have you succeeded in persuading Jane to take Lady Rochford into her service?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Because I do not wish word to get back to Bess Seymour that I am intriguing with a Queen’s Lady.’
‘But you are not, are you?’
‘Not yet, but I worry about my ability to resist, if she seeks to draw me back into her net.’
‘A man who cannot keep his cock in his hose runs many risks at Court — not the least being that of disease — but why do you still cling to the pathetic hope of securing Bess Seymour’s hand?’
‘It is for a reason that probably does not exist in your view of the world, since it has to do with the heart.’
‘Even more treacherous than the cock, in my experience. You may find this strange to your ear, but I once loved deeply and unconditionally. A wife and two daughters.’
‘Not your son?’
‘A different sort of love. But pray continue to search for a good reason why you should not take the daily barge upstream to Hampton.’
‘The river is full of shit.’
‘Less than an hour each way with your nose pinched and your breath drawn in will make you appreciate the perfumes of the Queen’s Audience Chamber when you reach it. And remember that Jane Seymour once valued your conversation.’
‘That was when she had none of her own. What makes you so confident that she will unburden herself to me regarding her innermost thoughts?’
‘I am not, but if she is likely to confide in anyone in this unfamiliar world that she now inhabits, it will be you. And consider it this way — she is the sister of the woman whose heart you would besiege with protestations of love, and the more you ingratiate yourself with the older girl, the greater she may plead your cause with the younger.’
‘I want but a sizeable estate, and she has indicated that she will be mine, as I told you before.’
‘Again, look to the Queen. She now has estates in abundance, and if she sees that the happiness of her adored sister depends upon it, she may well prevail upon Henry to let her assign some of them to you. Or she may persuade Henry to grant you a wealthy estate in your own right.’
‘So I must revert to being your eyes and ears once again?’
‘I’m glad you finally accept that.’
‘How do you know that I will not play you false?’
‘You have seen what happens to those who do, Richard, and I think that you possess more wisdom than to take that risk. Remember the fates of Norris, Weston and Brereton.’
‘I do, almost daily. But you left out Mark Smeaton, who you betrayed most of all.’
‘He was a youth of no account, seeking crumbs from the tables of the rich. A bit like yourself. Now go, if you are to catch the barge.’
Cromwell’s scheming against Robert Aske came to fruition in March, when the undisputed leader of the northern rebels journeyed to London, and was received with politeness by Henry, who pretended to give weighty consideration to the list of grievances. Aske was then seized overnight at his temporary lodgings by men instructed by Cromwell and conveyed to the Tower on a charge of treason. By May he was facing trial by a Commission hand-picked by ‘The Vice-Regent in Spirituals’ and following his conviction he was sentenced to death.
A stately procession then wended its way north, with Aske paraded in a wagon, securely bound, for all to see. Darcy was also intercepted by Norfolk, acting on direct orders from Henry that had been drafted by Cromwell, and both men were hanged, drawn and quartered as traitors in full public view at York, on whose walls their heads were spiked.
Norfolk was then ordered to round up such of the now subdued rebels as he could find, and extract from each of them individually an oath of allegiance to King Henry, with sudden death as the alternative. Seventy-four executions later there was no more resistance, and although the less perceptive of those who had been thus suppressed could see only the hand of Norfolk in their downfall, Aske had left no-one in any doubt, in his execution speech, that the real villain behind the scenes had been Thomas Cromwell.
Bess Seymour, a widow left with two infant children, had been struggling for some time to manage the modest estate left by her late husband on the outskirts of York. After the disruption caused by The Pilgrimage of Grace, the task had become almost insurmountable, and she was in a perilous position financially.
She wrote to Cromwell seeking his support ‘in whatever manner your Lordship shall see fit to grant me.’ It seemed never to have occurred to her that, as a royal sister, she was a valuable asset in the marriage game, but the point was not lost on Cromwell. He wrote back with a proposition that she gratefully accepted.
XIX
With considerable reluctance and foreboding, Richard obeyed Cromwell’s instruction and presented himself almost daily at Hampton Court, where Queen Jane held court with a small group of courtiers following her midday meal with Henry. But her group of friends was in marked contrast to the one that the former Queen Anne had assembled in order to pay homage to her beauty and status. This new inner circle owed much to Jane’s serious attention to being a royal lady of learning and culture, and the topics of conversation rarely travelled beyond religious practice, the reformation of the Church, and the ongoing sensitive relations with France, Spain and Germany.
In regular attendance was Jane’s brother Edward, now Viscount Beauchamp and a Gentleman of the King’s Chamber. He was clearly high in the King’s favour, and as if in recognition of the sister to whom he owed his preferment he was ever solicitous of
Jane’s health, and full of advice as to what she should eat, what exercise she should take, and what perils to avoid. Occasionally he was joined by his younger brother Thomas, who clearly regarded himself as something of a dandy and a gallant, seeking to impress those of the Queen’s Ladies who were in attendance.
There was much competition to be a lady-in-waiting to the Queen, because of the opportunities that it brought to catch the eye of one of the King’s Gentlemen of the Chamber. As a result, they tended to be hand-picked, and after her confronting experiences in the former Court of Queen Anne, Jane was determined that her Ladies should display far more modesty and grace, and engage in far less ribaldry. Lady Rutland, Jane’s Senior Lady, presided over younger, and less experienced, ladies such as Anne Basset and Mary Zouche, ensuring that their dress was appropriate and their behaviour the last word in decorum. The French fashions so favoured by Anne were now replaced by the older style gable hoods that had been introduced to the English Court by Katherine of Aragon, and woe betide any lady who wore less than the prescribed number of pearls on her gown.
And then there was Jane Rochford, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. The first time that Richard was announced into the presence by the usher, he was distracted by Queen Jane’s delighted cry of welcome as she beckoned him over to a seat close to her.
‘This is my true friend Sir Richard Ashton,’ she announced to the assembled company, ‘who was so solicitous for my happiness in those dark days when I was otherwise friendless in the afternoon audiences of the former Queen. Richard, who do you know here? My brother Edward, obviously, and perhaps you remember Viscountess Rochford from those days?’
‘Indeed, we have met,’ Richard conceded as he forced himself to gaze into the lustful eyes of the lady in question.
She nodded formally to him, and assured him, ‘Your return to Court is most welcome, Sir Richard.’
The introductions complete, Jane confirmed, in response to Richard’s polite enquiry, that she was as well as her condition allowed, but that she found the endless proddings and questioning of her physicians tedious in the extreme, and her confinement inside her own lodgings at Hampton ‘most restrictive of my natural humour for the open countryside’. Then the conversation became more general, and Richard did his best to make polite contributions to it when appropriate, all the while attempting to avoid contact with Jane Rochford’s burning looks in his direction as she undressed him with her eyes.
Then came an afternoon of events Richard was obliged to report back to Cromwell in minute detail. Jane had indicated excitedly, as soon as the regular company had assembled, that she had been overcome with joy to be invited to dine, not just with Henry, but with ‘the lovely Lady Mary, who he was most moved to be reunited with. It was such to make one’s eyes flood with tears to see the love between the two of them, and it has quite made my day.’ An hour later the chamber doors opened, and the usher announced the entry of ‘His Majesty King Henry and the Lady Mary’, and the entire company rose swiftly and bowed the knee.
It was Richard’s first sight of the former royal princess, who was now officially a bastard and no longer heir to Henry’s throne, any more than her half-sister Elizabeth. He was struck by Mary’s general likeness to Henry, with dark red hair, a broad face and a stature tending towards the bulky. However, she had retained her late mother’s lack of height and heaviness of facial features, coupled with a palely glowing complexion that most of the women at Court would have traded a ransom for. He watched, fascinated, as the royal daughter now in the fullness of womanhood all but raced across the chamber and grabbed the hand of Queen Jane.
‘Dearest mother,’ she enthused, with what sounded like genuine affection, ‘I must pay all honour to you for your tireless efforts in bringing about the joyful reunion between father and daughter. England is a much better place for having on its throne, alongside my honoured father, a lady of such grace and spirituality.’
In the somewhat embarrassed silence that followed, Henry cleared his throat and announced gruffly, ‘The Lady Mary has been afforded accommodation here at Hampton, and she has graciously agreed to remain as a fitting companion to my dear wife as she approaches the time of her lying in.’
There were expressions of satisfaction and welcome all round, and as soon as he decently could Richard slipped away and took the barge back downstream on a rapidly ebbing tide, and broke the news to Cromwell when he found him in his study at Austin Friars.
‘That should smooth matters a little with Spain,’ Cromwell muttered with a smile. ‘At least Ambassador Chapuys will now be obliged to find some other subject with which to make my ear ache. I can now also expect the French Ambassador to increase the size of his offered bribes. But I doubt that Henry will acknowledge Mary’s title to the throne yet, if ever. At the very least he must wait to see if Jane gives him a son.’
‘Can a queen be allowed to rule England?’ Richard enquired.
‘She can if the King decrees it so. He and I have lately been considering a new statute that will allow him to list the order of succession on his death, although that also must await the outcome from between Jane’s legs. But the way it is currently drafted, Henry could lawfully declare one of his many dogs to be his successor.’
Richard grimaced. ‘I pity you, and others like you, who are obliged to consider all such matters from the perspective of what they mean to the nation. What I witnessed this afternoon was a tear-wrenching reunion between a proud father and a doting daughter, brought about by a kindly and caring stepmother, and yet the way you describe its significance, it might just as well have been the trading of a mare at market.’
Cromwell looked up from his papers and studied Richard’s face. ‘You are learning, boy. But you have one more hard lesson to absorb before you fully appreciate how these things work. One more confirmation that in this world we inhabit there is no place for the weakness brought about by sentiment.’
‘That I will never believe,’ Richard insisted, and Cromwell’s face set in a mask of determination.
‘You will by the end of this week — no later.’
It was in fact only two days later when Richard’s world fell apart, and his cobweb of vaguely formed romantic fantasies was blasted to shreds by the cold hard wind of material reality. He had barely entered the Queen’s chambers for his usual afternoon of polite inconsequence when Jane beckoned him over with a worried frown, and signalled for Anne Basset to yield her seat to him as she leaned into him and kept her voice low.
‘I wonder that you gave in so easily to the loss of the lady of your affections, Richard.’
‘Your meaning, my lady?’
‘You entertained hopes for the hand of my sister Bess, did you not?’
‘In truth I still do,’ Richard confessed with a blush. ‘Is there something I should know?’
Jane looked down uncomfortably at the carpet as she mumbled the awful tidings. ‘She writes that she has accepted the hand of Gregory Cromwell. Did your master not tell you?’
Richard gripped the arm of his chair firmly as his vision of the Queen began to blur, and he feared that he was about to lose consciousness. He blinked, then looked blindly back at Jane in the vain hope that he had misheard, conscious of Jane Rochford’s eyes burning into the back of his head.
‘Did I hear you aright? She is betrothed to Gregory? But he is barely seventeen years old!’
‘My sister is little older, remember,’ Jane reminded him.
‘How did this come about?’ Richard demanded.
Jane shrugged. ‘I know only what my sister writes. It seems that she is in some monetary straights, and wrote to your master seeking his assistance. It was he who put to her the suggestion that she marry his son, and failing any other alternative she accepted.’
‘But she cannot love him, surely? Have they ever even met?’
‘That I know not. But I know that her heart was inclined in your direction. It is to be regretted that you had no estate of your own.’
‘And for that I must blame the man who has bought and sold her for his own devious purposes,’ Richard replied as he tasted the angry bile rising in his throat. ‘Would you excuse me from your presence?’
‘Of course, and I shall advise Bess of your sorrow upon hearing the tidings.’
Four hours later, as the autumn sun sank behind the hills beyond Windsor, Richard could be seen walking morosely up and down the north bank of the Thames, tears streaming down his face and contemplating whether or not to cast himself into the oily waters upon which, even in the fading light, several turds could be seen defiantly floating. Night had fully descended before he was sufficiently calm to trust himself to limp exhaustedly through the postern gate that guarded the entrance to Austin Friars and walk back into its Great Hall, kicking the doorpost on his way in.
On the table lay a flagon of wine covered with a cloth, a goblet and a plate of bread and cold meats, presumably left out for him by the Steward. He threw himself down onto the bench at the table, uncovered the wine, drank two goblets without pausing for breath, then belched. He was staring at the candles burning on the far wall when he heard a soft voice from the dark corner of the room, from the man who had obviously been awaiting his return.
‘I will not apologise for your grief, since it is of your own making, and I could hardly be expected not to give my own son such a wonderful opportunity to move so close to the throne. You will forgive me one day, if you resist the temptation to do away with yourself. And now I will withdraw, before you attempt to do away with me.’
Those in service at Austin Friars had no idea of the origin of the terrible atmosphere between ‘the master’ and his resident Senior Clerk, but they busied themselves with preparations for the wedding between Master Gregory and the Queen’s sister, which was to take place at Mortlake, but which would be followed by a celebratory feast at Austin Friars.
