The Fifth Queen (27 page)

‘Our garden man would say.…’ she began a sentence. Her eye fell upon one of these very crumpled balls of paper. It lay upon the table and it confused her to think that it appeared like an apple. ‘Would say … would say …’ she faltered.

He looked at her with enquiring eyes, round in his great head.

‘It is too late,’ she finished.

‘Even too late for what?’ he asked.

‘Too late in the year to set the trees back,’ she answered and her fit of nervousness had passed. ‘For there is a fluid in trees that runneth upward in the spring of the year to greet the blessed sun.’

‘Why, what a wise lady is this!’ he said, half earnest. ‘I would I had such an adviser as thou hast,’ he continued to his daughter.

He frowned for a moment, remembering that, being who he was, he should stand in need of no advice.

‘See you,’ he said to Katharine. ‘You have spoken of many things and wisely, after a woman’s fashion of book-learning. Now I am minded that you should hear me speak upon the Word of God which is a man’s matter and a King’s. This day sennight I am to have brought to my closet a heretic, Dr Barnes. If ye will ye may hear me confound him with goodly doctrines.’

He raised both his eyebrows heavily and looked first at the Lady Mary.

‘You, I am minded, shall hear a word of true doctrine.’

And to Katharine, ‘I would hear how you think that I can manage a disputation. For the fellow is the sturdiest rogue with a yard of tongue to wag.’

Katharine maintained a duteous silence; the Lady Mary stood with her hands clasped before her. Upon Katharine he smiled suddenly and heavily.

‘I grow too old to be a match for thee in the learning of this world. Thy tongue has outstripped me since I am become stale.… But hear me in the other make of talk.’

‘I ask no better,’ Katharine said.

‘Therefore,’ he finished, ‘I am minded that you, Mog, and
your ladies all, do move your residences from here to my house at Hampton. This is an old and dark place; there you shall be better honoured.’

He lay back in his chair and was pleased with the care that he took of his daughter. Katharine glided intently across the smooth bare floor and took the ball of paper in her hand. His eyes followed her and he moved his head round after her movements, heavily, and without any motion of his great body. He was in a comfortable mood, having slept well the night before, and having conversed agreeably in the bosom of a family where pleasant conversation was a rare thing. For the Lady Mary had forborne to utter biting speeches, since her eyes too had been upon that ball of paper. The King did not stay for many minutes after Katharine had gone.

She was excited, troubled and amused—and, indeed, the passing of those letters held her thoughts in those few days. Thus it was easy to give the paper to her maid Margot, and easy to give Margot the directions. But she knew very well by what shift Margot persuaded her scarlet-clothed springald of a brother to take the ball and to throw it into the cookshop. For the young Poins was set upon advancement, and Margot, buxom, substantial and honest-faced, stood before him and said: ‘Here is your chance for advancement made …’ if he could carry these missives very secretly.

‘For, brother Poins,’ she said, ‘thou knowest these great folks reward greatly—and these things pass between folks very great. If I tell thee no names it is because thou canst see more through a stone wall than common folk.’

So the young Poins cocked his bonnet more jauntily, and, setting out up river to Hampton, changed his scarlet clothes for a grey coat and puritan hose, and in the dark did his errand very well. He carried a large poke in which he put the larded capons and the round loaves that the cook sold to him. Later, following a reed path along the river, he came swiftly down to Isleworth with his bag on a cord and, in the darkness
from beneath the walls, he slung bag and cord in at Katharine Howard’s open window. For several times this happened before the Lady Mary’s court was moved to Hampton. At first, Katharine had her tremors to put up with—and it was only when, each evening, with a thump and swish, the bag, sweeping out of the darkness, sped across her floor—it was only then that Katharine’s heart ceased from pulsing with a flutter. All the while the letters were out of her own hands she moved on tip-toe, as if she were a hunter intent on surprising a coy quarry. Nevertheless, it was impossible for her to believe that this was a dangerous game; it was impossible to believe that the heavy, unsuspicious and benevolent man who tried clumsily to gain his daughter’s love with bribes of cakes and kerchiefs—that this man could be roused to order her to her death because she conveyed from one place to another a ball of paper. It was more like a game of passing a ring from hand to hand behind the players’ backs, for kisses for forfeits if the ring were caught. Nevertheless, this was treason-felony; yet it was furthering the dear cause of the saints.

It was on the day on which her uncle Norfolk had sent for her that the King had his interview with the heretical Dr Barnes—nicknamed Antoninus Anglicanus.

The Lady Mary and Katharine Howard and her maid, Margot, were set in a tiny closet in which there was, in a hole in the wall, a niche for the King’s confessor. The King’s own chamber was empty when they passed through, and they left the door between ajar. There came a burst of voices, and swiftly the Bishop of Winchester himself entered their closet. He lifted his black eyebrows at sight of them, and rubbed his thin hands with satisfaction.

‘Now we shall hear one of Crummock’s henchmen swinged,’ he whispered. He raised a finger for them to lend ear and gazed through the crack of the door. They heard a harsh voice, like a dog’s bay, utter clearly:

‘Now goodly goodman Doctor, thou hast spoken certain
words at Paul’s Cross. They touched on Justification; thou shalt justify them to me now.’ There came a sound of a man who cleared his throat—and then again the heavy voice:

‘Why, be not cast down; we spoke as doctor to doctor. Without a doubt thou art learned. Show then thy learning. Wast brave at Paul’s Cross. Justify now!’

Gardiner, turning from gazing through the door-crack, grinned at the three women.

‘He rated
me
at Paul’s Cross!’ he said. ‘He thumped me as I had been a thrashing floor.’ They missed the Doctor’s voice—but the King’s came again.

‘Why, this is a folly. I am Supreme Head, but I bid thee to speak.’

There was a long pause till they caught the words.

‘Your Highness, I do surrender my learning to your Highness’.’ Then, indeed, there was a great roar:

‘Unworthy knave; surrender thyself to none but God. He is above me as above thee. To none but God.’

There was another long silence, and then the King’s voice again:

‘Why, get thee gone. Shalt to gaol for a craven …’ And then came a hissing sound of vexation, a dull thud, and other noises.

The King’s bonnet lay on the floor, and the King himself alone was padding down the room when they opened their door. His face was red with rage.

‘Why, what a clever fiend is this Cromwell!’ the Lady Mary said; but the Bishop of Winchester was laughing. He pushed Margot Poins from the closet, but caught Katharine Howard tightly by the arm.

‘Thou shalt write what thy uncle asked of thee!’ he commanded in a low voice, ‘an thou do it not, thy cousin shall to gaol! I have a letter thou didst write me.’

A black despair settled for a moment upon Katharine, but
the King was standing before her. He had walked with inaudible swiftness up from the other end of the room.

‘Didst not hear me argue!’ he said, with the vexation of a great child. ‘That poxy knave out-marched me!’

‘Why,’ the Lady Mary sniggered at him, ‘thy brewer’s son is too many for your Highness.’

Henry snarled round at her; but she folded her hands before her and uttered:

‘The brewer’s son made your Highness Supreme Head of the Church. Therefore, the brewer’s son hath tied your Highness’ tongue. For who may argue with your Highness?’

He looked at her for a moment with a bemused face.

‘Very well,’ he said.

‘The brewer’s son should have made your Highness the lowest suppliant at the Church doors. Then, if, for the astounding of certain beholders, your Highness were minded to argue, your Highness should find adversaries.’

The bitter irony of her words made Katharine Howard angry. This poor, heavy man had other matters for misgiving than to be badgered by a woman. But the irony was lost upon the King. He said very simply:

‘Why, that is true. If I be the Head, the Tail shall fear to bandy words with me.’ He addressed himself again to Katharine: ‘I am sorry that you did not hear me argue. I am main good at these arguments.’ He looked reflectively at Gardiner and said: ‘Friend Winchester, one day I will cast a main at arguments with thee, and Kat Howard shall hear. But I doubt thou art little skilled with thy tongue.’

‘Why, I will make a better shift with my tongue than Privy Seal’s men dare,’ the bishop said. He glanced under his brows at Henry, as if he were measuring the ground for a leap.

‘The Lady Mary is in the right,’ he ventured.

The King, who was thinking out a speech to Katharine, said, ‘Anan?’ and Gardiner ventured further:

‘I hold it for true that this man held his peace, because Cromwell so commanded it. He is Cromwell’s creature, and Cromwell is minded to escape from the business with a whole skin.’

The King bent him an attentive ear.

‘It is to me, in the end, that Privy Seal owes amends,’ Gardiner said rancorously. ‘Since it was at me that this man, by Cromwell’s orders, did hurl his foul words at Paul’s Cross.’

The King said:

‘Why, it is true that thou art more sound in doctrine than is Privy Seal. What wouldst thou have?’

Gardiner made an immense gesture, as if he would have embraced the whole world.

Katharine Howard trembled. Here they were, all the three of them Cromwell’s enemies. They were all alone with the King in a favouring mood, and she was on the point of crying out:

‘Give us Privy Seal’s head.’

But, in this very moment of his opportunity, Gardiner faltered. Even the blackness of his hatred could not make him bold.

‘That he should make me amends in public for the foul words that knave uttered. That they should both sue to me for pardon: that it should be showed to the world what manner of man it is that they have dared to flout.’

‘Why, goodman Bishop, it shall be done,’ the King said, and Katharine groaned aloud. A clock with two quarter boys beside the large fire-place chimed the hour of four.

‘Aye!’ the King commented to Katharine. ‘I thought to have had a pleasanter hour of it. Now you see what manner of life is mine: I must go to a plaguing council!’

‘An I were your Highness,’ Katharine cried, ‘I would be avenged on them that marred my pleasures.’

He touched her benevolently upon the cheek.

‘Sweetheart,’ he said, ‘an thou wert me thou’dst do great things.’ He rolled towards the door, heavy and mountainous:
with the latch in his hand, he cried over his shoulder: ‘But thou shalt yet hear me argue!’

‘What a morning you have made of this!’ Katharine threw at the bishop. The Lady Mary shrugged her shoulders to her ears and turned away. Gardiner said:

‘Anan?’

‘Oh, well your Holiness knows,’ Katharine said. ‘You might have come within an ace of having Cromwell down.’

His eyes flashed, and he swallowed with a bitter delight.

‘I have him at my feet,’ he said. ‘He shall do public reparation to me. You have heard the King say so.’

There were tears of vexation in Katharine’s eyes.

‘Well I know how it is that this brewer’s son has king’d it so long!’ she said. ‘An I had been a man it had been his head or mine.’

Gardiner shook himself like a dog that is newly out of the water.

‘Madam Howard,’ he said, ‘you are mighty high. I have observed how the King spoke all his words for your ear. His passions are beyond words and beyond shame.’

The Lady Mary was almost out of the room, and he came close enough to speak in Katharine’s ears.

‘But be you certain that his Highness’ passions are not beyond the reverse of passion, which is jealousy. You have a cousin at Calais.…’

Katharine moved away from him.

‘Why, God help you, priest,’ she said. ‘Do you think you are the only man that knows that?’

He laughed melodiously, with a great anger.

‘But I am the man that knoweth best how to use my knowledge. Therefore you shall do my will.’

Katharine Howard laughed back at him:

‘Where your lordship’s will marches with mine I will do it,’ she said. ‘But I am main weary of your lordship’s threats. You know the words of Artemidorus?’

Gardiner contained his rage.

‘You will write the letter we have asked you to write?’

She laughed again, and faced him, radiant, fair and flushed in the cheeks.

‘In so far as you beg me to write a letter praying the King of France and the Emperor to abstain from war upon this land, I will write the letter. But, in so far as that helps forward the plotting of you and a knave called Throckmorton, I am main sorry that I must write it.’

The bishop drew back, and uttered:

‘Madam Howard, ye are forward.’

‘Why, God help your lordship,’ she said. ‘Where I see little course for respect I show little. You see I am friends with the King—therefore leave you my cousin be. Because I am friends with the King, who is a man among wolves, I will pray my mistress to indite a letter that shall save this King some troubles. But, if you threaten me with my cousin, or my cousin with me, I will use my friendship with the King as well against you as against any other.’

Gardiner swallowed in his throat, winked his eyes, and muttered:

‘Why, so you do what we will, it matters little in what spirit you shall do it.’

‘So you and my uncle and Throckmorton keep your feet from my paths, you may have my leavings,’ she said. ‘And they will be the larger part, since I ask little for myself.’

He gave her his episcopal blessing as she followed the Lady Mary to her rooms.

Her mind was made up—and she knew that it had been made up hastily, but she was never one to give much time to doubting. She wished these men to leave her out of their plots—but four men are stronger than one woman. Yet, as her philosophy had it, you may make a woman your tool, but
she will bend in your hand and strike where she will, for all that. Therefore she must plot, but not with them.