by David Field
‘You are not a woman,’ she smiled back at him through clear eyes the colour of cornflowers in full bloom. ‘It is a feeling you get in a certain part of you that God did not create in men. A craving, it might be called. When does the mistress return?’
‘She writes that she is likely to be gone for some time,’ Richard told her. ‘England has a new Queen, and Jane is one of her Ladies.’
‘She was one such before, or so I am told,’ Kate replied.
‘She was indeed. To Queen Jane, and before her Queen Anne.’
‘It must be a wonderful opening for a woman, to attend upon a Queen,’ Kate speculated out loud. ‘So much opportunity to appear at one’s best, with fine clothes and rich perfumes — and, of course, the chance to catch the eye of a gentleman such as yourself.’
Something about the way she said it caused a stirring inside Richard’s hose, and he found himself urging Jane, in his mind, to return without delay, before matters drifted in a way that would not be good for any of them, and Kate least of all.
Things were not progressing well in Council, and Cromwell was aware of the hostile atmosphere that surrounded him from those around the table, even Cranmer, who seemed concerned to avoid provoking those who were loudly advocating a move back to greater orthodoxy in Church liturgy and practice.
Norfolk had judged the time appropriate to call for an end to any further forays into reform, and to table a series of proposals designed to return the Church, even in its English manifestation, to observances with which the more traditional, God-fearing and downright superstitious felt more comfortable. Transubstantiation would return in order to convert the eucharist into the actual body and blood of Christ, while salvation might once again be sought through the confessional. Finally, all priests were to revert to celibacy, and any marriages entered into during the laxer previous few years were to be annulled by Act of Parliament.
Throughout all the vituperative debate, and most notably that between Cromwell and Norfolk, Henry seemed restless and distracted, except when Norfolk began to push for his final proposal, that any form of heresy should be deemed treasonous. The King was nodding sagely to this formal recognition of his position at the head of matters religious as well as secular when Cromwell could stand it no longer.
‘These reforms upon which you are insisting are not for the good of the nation,’ he snapped across the table at Norfolk, ‘but to prop up your waning support among the bucolic fossils who still stomp around the more isolated counties of the realm. And you propose that anyone who does not abide by these new laws of your making shall be deemed to be traitors. Are you not in danger of setting yourself up against His Majesty?’
There was silence as the two men locked glares. Finally Norfolk broke the tension.
‘Master Secretary would of course know all about treason, given the evil schemes of his Senior Clerk.’
This time the silence was almost palpable, and all eyes turned to Cromwell in anticipation of one of his stinging rejoinders. Instead he gathered up his papers and rose from the table. ‘If Your Majesty would permit, I have more important matters to attend to across the Channel.’
‘Going to inspect your army?’ Norfolk called after him, immediately before Cromwell slammed the door on his way out.
‘To what was Norfolk alluding?’ Henry asked Cromwell the following morning.
Cromwell had enjoyed the advantage of a whole sleepless night in which to prepare his reply. ‘I had hoped to be in possession of much more proof than I have at present, Sire, but as you may have been advised, I have several members of the Pole family currently confined within the Tower, and they are slowly revealing details of a plot to challenge your throne.’
‘You have had them tortured?’ Henry asked, aghast. ‘They are ennobled, and it will sit ill with my reputation should they have been harmed.’
‘No, Sire, you may rest assured on that score. Although I am bound to observe that the common folk of England, with whom your reputation must best be preserved, would not care too greatly were I to rack a member of the nobility.’
‘This challenge to my throne,’ Henry persisted, ‘was Norfolk correct in his claim that it is being led by one of your clerks?’
Cromwell laughed for effect, then explained. ‘On the contrary, Sire, it was one of my clerks who discovered it, and Norfolk seeks simply to divert attention from what this same clerk learned about Norfolk’s own role in it.’
Henry looked stunned. ‘You say that Norfolk is plotting against my throne?’
‘I cannot say so without further evidence upon which I may have him arrested and conveyed to the Tower, which is why I have thus far not made Your Majesty aware of the full extent of the treachery. At present it is only the word of my clerk against that of Norfolk, but you may rest assured that those who were to be its main actors are safely in the Tower.’
‘You are planning another journey to Cleves, as you advised Council? Is there ought to suggest that this treason may be traced back to there?’
‘Would that it could, Sire, since that would be an end to another difficulty that we must confront.’
‘It is I who have the difficulty, Thomas, thanks to your incompetence. I must own that the Lady Anne at present seems content for me simply to fumble with her duckies and kiss her goodnight, but should word leak out of my inability to do the deed with her, I shall be a laughing stock. Thank God that she still speaks no English, but leave her ladies in no doubt that I will have their heads if one of them so much as hints that the hairy furrow from Cleves has not yet been ploughed by me.’
‘We cannot therefore plead non-consummation,’ Cromwell mused out loud, ‘but yet there is hope. I journey again to Cleves to test for myself a rumour brought back by one of my interrogators that Anne was formerly betrothed to Francis of Lorraine.’
‘Did he bed her? If so, he must have been in the throes of desperation.’
‘The arrangement was called off before either of them was fifteen, and without them meeting,’ Cromwell explained, ‘but under our law — which Your Majesty may need to amend for that purpose — it may be that this is sufficient prior contract to justify an annulment, particularly if the lady can be bought off.’
‘It is to be hoped that she can, Thomas, if you are to make proper amends to me. Put shortly, you dropped us into this pile of shit, and you must dig us out. On another, but perhaps related, matter, have you seen the new lady at Court?’
‘I regret that my duties for Your Majesty are currently so onerous that I have little opportunity for social occasions. To whom do you refer?’
‘Her name is Catherine, and she is Norfolk’s niece.’
‘God preserve us, not another Boleyn?’
‘No, a Howard this time. A lovely little piece, quite sporting and lively. A pleasant diversion from the German misery. Would that you had brought me Catherine Howard instead of her.’
‘Perhaps if the lady from Cleves can be persuaded to relinquish any hopes of the Crown?’
‘She may as well, since she most certainly won’t be realising any hopes of my cock. Catherine Howard, on the other hand... See to it, Thomas — and shortly.’
Cromwell wasted no time in summoning Jane to his suite of rooms on the ground floor of Placentia Palace, and seating her in front of him at his desk. ‘You have a new lady at Court? Catherine Howard?’
Jane sniffed her disapproval. ‘A flighty baggage insisted on by Norfolk, under threat of proceeding against Richard and Grace, despite the guard at Bradgate. She seems artless and frivolous, but what of her?’
‘Henry is lusting after her already,’ Cromwell confided. ‘First he must be rid of the Flanders Mare. How go matters between her and the King, so far as you have been advised?’
Jane screwed her face in contemptuous disgust. ‘She speaks only of fumblings beneath the sheets, and seems to think that this is sufficient behaviour between husband and wife, if accompanied by a kiss morning and night. When may I return to Bradgate?’
‘Not yet, if
we are to see this through. I am currently seeking the means to annul the marriage with the current lady of the royal bedchamber, but then you may find yourself in the service of another Howard niece.’
‘Is there to be no end to this? How many wives does Henry intend to have?’
‘If I knew that, I would be on firmer ground. But until I have the evidence against Norfolk, I must continue to walk on eggs. As must you.’
‘If only life could be much simpler,’ Jane complained. ‘I never imagined, when I first came to Court, that I would be drawn into such intrigue and back-stabbing.’
‘It is the price we pay to be guaranteed food in our bellies and a thatch over our heads,’ Cromwell reminded her. ‘Now go and attend on your lady, and see what else she can tell us of the secrets of her bedchamber.’
Less than a week later Cromwell had received the reassuring confirmation from Cleves, and had begun negotiations with one of its ducal daughters for her to submit to annulment proceedings in return for a lavish pay-out that included Richmond Palace, where Henry had spent much of his youth, and which had been his father’s favourite residence. Another gift, more ironic, was that of Hever Castle, where Henry had courted Anne Boleyn and which had been forfeited by her family upon her execution. There were other regal properties besides, plus a promise that Anne would henceforth be treated with the highest respect and regard and would always be welcome at Court as ‘Our Beloved Sister’, and with precedence over anyone bar any subsequent Queen and the royal daughters Anne and Elizabeth.
To show his gratitude for this solution, Henry gifted Cromwell the vacant titles of Earl of Essex and Earl of Oxford, to be assumed when their current incumbents died.
XXXIII
Richard had received a letter from Jane, expressing her sadness at the fact that she was obliged to remain at Court, but advising him that as a result Richard and Grace had been promised continued immunity from any threat to their lives from Norfolk.
In reliance on this, he had begun making more regular trips to Knighton, along with Kate, who supervised Grace while she demonstrated her new-found mobility by racing up and down the recently scythed lawns at the front of the house, calling for ‘Dada’ and ‘Atey’ to admire her antics. Then when she had tired herself out she was put to sleep in a new cot purchased in Leicester, and Richard and Kate politely declined any offer of food from Hester Cudworth in their enthusiasm to prepare their own meals.
Once night fell, Kate insisted upon sleeping, with Grace at her side, in the former cell occupied by her Aunt Mary in her days as a nun, and from Richard’s perspective this was perhaps as well.
They had been at Knighton for three days, supervising the new tapestries that would further protect the main hall from any draughts caused by slight imperfections in the plasterwork. They had sent their small escort back to Bradgate, following Jane’s written assurance that they faced no immediate threat from Norfolk, so they looked up and exchanged puzzled looks when they heard the sound of horsemen thudding through the main entrance gate. Richard stepped outside, with Kate behind him carrying Grace in her arms, just as the apparent commander of ten armed men, all bearing the Norfolk livery, dismounted carrying a small scroll of vellum.
‘Sir Richard Ashton?’
‘I am he.’
‘I have here a warrant for your arrest on a count of treason. I am to convey you forthwith to the Tower.’
‘On whose authority?’
‘My lord of Norfolk.’
‘I have committed no treason — unlike he who has ordered my arrest.’
‘Tell that to the Constable of the Tower. My orders are merely to convey you there.’
Richard looked round helplessly at Kate. ‘See to Grace, and ensure that Sir Henry is informed without delay.’
His last vision of Kate was of tears streaming down her face as she assured him that she would take care of Grace ‘as if she were my own, because that is how she feels to me’, then he assured the captain of his escort that he would give them no trouble if he might be allowed to make the journey to the Tower on his own horse.
Four days later he was installed in a tiny chamber in the Bell Tower, cold, hungry, and terrified by stories he had heard of what they did to prisoners in this awful place. He could only hope that Cromwell had been informed.
‘You go too far!’ Cromwell yelled at Norfolk as he burst past the two guards on the entrance door to his suite of rooms in Whitehall Palace. ‘You have ordered the arrest of my Senior Clerk Sir Richard Ashton on a charge of treason for which you have no evidence. And for that matter, no authority!’
‘I had the authority of Lord High Steward when I presided over the trial of my own niece for treason,’ Norfolk sneered back at him. ‘So far as I am aware, that title has not been withdrawn since, and if it is sufficient for one count of treason, why not another, by some lowly clerk who is far lower in status than Queen of England, as Anne was when she went to the Tower?’
‘Where is your evidence?’ Cromwell demanded.
‘Also in the Tower. Geoffrey Pole required only one turn of the rack screw to loosen his tongue, and he was more than happy to subscribe his name to a confession of his own treason, on an evening when Sir Richard Ashton was in attendance, in his capacity as the pretended long-lost Yorkist heir to the throne. You would be well advised to seek another clerk, Master Secretary.’
‘The King shall hear of this!’
‘He has already heard of it, and what is more he has commended my loyal and timely action. He is now left wondering how such a traitor came to be in service so close to the throne, and naturally I was obliged to advise him that Ashton came into your service with no prior experience of such duties, plucked — as it were — from obscurity and made to believe that he was the rightful King of England.’
‘If you have him tortured, I swear to God that I will run you through personally!’ Cromwell growled.
Norfolk smirked yet again as he turned to the usher who had been standing in the corner of the chamber. ‘You presumably heard that? Threatening death to the loyal servant of the King who has but lately unearthed a plot against the throne. I would imagine that such a threat would merely confirm the man’s own complicity in the matter.’
‘Damn you, Norfolk — you have overreached yourself this time!’ Cromwell thundered as he swept out of the chamber and down the hallway to the royal apartments, where he demanded to be admitted.
‘Sire,’ he announced as he bent down on one knee, and nodded brusquely at the dark haired beauty who sat at a window seat in the corner, ‘please pardon this unscheduled intrusion, but there is a matter of grave urgency with which I must speak with you. In strict privacy,’ he added, as he made an informed guess as to who the lady in the window seat might be.
Henry turned to the woman and smiled lovingly. ‘Catherine, my sweet, you will appreciate that being King of England brings with it certain duties that cannot be avoided. Pray leave us and return to your chamber, where I will send word for your return without delay, once this business had been disposed of.’
Once Catherine Howard had withdrawn with a kiss blown in Henry’s direction, and with a dark stare at Cromwell, Henry took the initiative. ‘I presume that you are here in an attempt to save the skin of your traitorous clerk?’
‘He is no traitor, Sire. Quite the opposite — he was offered the opportunity to make a bid for the throne, to which in the circumstances he might be thought to be entitled, but far from seizing that chance, he lost no time in reporting it to me.’
‘He was meeting with Margaret Pole and her tribe of ungrateful traitors, as Norfolk so advises me?’
‘He came upon it by accident, Sire. He was merely visiting his great aunt.’
‘He is related to Margaret Pole?’ Henry asked. ‘If that be so, then surely that alone proves his guilt. The entire family has been plotting in the Yorkist camp for generations, and have only survived to this day because of the mercy of first my father, and now me.’
‘Hear
me out please, Sire,’ Cromwell pleaded. ‘You mention your father’s reign — the Henry Tudor who left you the crown of England. You will recall that my former master the Cardinal served him faithfully, as indeed he did you in your early years.’
‘Yes, of course. His death was most unfortunate.’
‘Tragic, Sire. He was the most loyal servant any king could wish for, and he was betrayed by treachery close to the throne.’
‘I need not be reminded of that, Cromwell,’ Henry glowered with a facial expression that those who knew him recognised as the first rumbling before the volcano blew. ‘What is the point to all this?’
‘Before his death, as the result of two deathbed confessions by men who had been involved, my master learned that the man hung by your father as a pretender — Perkin Warbeck — was indeed the rightful Richard, Duke of York, and the remaining Yorkist heir to the throne.’
‘Wolsey breached the sanctity of the confessional? Perhaps it was God’s punishment that he died when he did.’
‘He kept silent all his life in order to protect you, Sire, since those behind the murder of the older brother Edward were paid by your grandmother. But the Cardinal’s own conscience compelled him to disclose these matters to me, shortly before his death in Leicester.’
‘Even if I believe this fairy tale,’ Henry objected, ‘surely, since Warbeck has been dead these many years, there can be no ongoing threat.’
‘His grandson lives on, Sire.’
‘And where might he be now?’
‘In the Tower, on the order of Norfolk.’
The light of understanding lit up Henry’s face. ‘Your clerk? Ashton?’
‘The very same, Sire.’
‘Surely, then, Norfolk was correct to have him arrested? He shall be deprived of his head without further delay! And how can I be sure that you did not encourage his plot against me? After all, you were the one who introduced him to Court.’
‘If I were guilty of such treason, would I stand here and admit it?’ Cromwell challenged him.
