“I saw him once, when l was a little girl, is he not the most magnificent of men?” she cried breathlessly.
“There will no trouble with this one,” he thought. “Indeed and who knows, Catherine, the King is very partial to a pretty face… you may find favour in his eyes,” he hinted.
Her cheeks flushed and her hazel eyes widened with excitement.
“Not a word of this to anyone, Catherine! No idle chatter to my women!” Agnes instructed her firmly. “You may inform them that you are to go to court but that is all, you understand?”
“Yes, grandmother.”
Agnes nodded, deciding that until they departed for Lambeth Catherine would vacate the chamber she shared with the Duchess’s ladies and move into a chamber of her own.
“You may go now for there is much to be done. Your uncle insists that you are suitably attired so find Joan Bulmer and ask her to summon the dressmaker. ”
Catherine curtsied to her uncle and then her grandmother and with checks burning and eyes dancing left to seek out Joan Bulmer.
“I do not think you will have trouble with Catherine,” Agnes said.
“No, she appears to be willing and dutiful girl.”
The Duke picked up his hat and gloves after first finishing his wine. “I shall expect you at Lambeth before Monday, Madam.”
“God speed, Thomas.”
* * *
Catherine and Agnes were no sooner installed at Norfolk House than an invitation arrived for them to dine with the Duke and Bishop Gardiner at the Bishop’s palace on the Thursday evening.
Agnes received instructions from her step-son to make sure that Catherine appeared as attractive as possible for the King had also been invited.
Catherine was in a fever of excitement. She had never owned such gowns or jewels as those now provided for her. She remembered the silk pansy she had cajoled from Dereham when she had had no other ornament and laughed delightedly as she pinned the diamond and emerald ouch to the bodice of her gown. Her hair had been freshly washed and perfumed and now gleamed like molten gold. Belladonna had been administered to her eyes which made them sparkle. Her sage green velvet gown was cut in the new style with a high, stiffened collar, delicately edged with gold lace and the French hood, perched upon the back of her head, was ornamented with pearls and showed her neatly parted, shining hair to perfection. Agnes had given her a small phial of very expensive perfume which had come from Tokay and she had liberally dabbed this upon her neck, wrinkling her nose in appreciation of its heady, exotic odour.
She could hardly contain her excitement as she sat in the barge beside her grandmother and Uncle Norfolk. She felt that she was dreaming the whole thing. Across the dark waters of the river she could see the lights of the Bishop’s palace shining like stars and finally the boatmen shipped their oars as they reached the water steps.
The Bishop stood at the top of the stair to welcome them. “Welcome, Mistress Howard. Your uncle has informed me that you are overjoyed to take supper with us.”
Catherine curtsied, “Thank you, My Lord Bishop, I am indeed overcome by your kindness,” she answered prettily.
His eyes met those of Norfolk and he nodded speculatively. “My Lord of Norfolk, we have found a maid of gold!” he said softly.
Catherine’s excitement knew no bounds when she learnt that the King was to be present. She pinched herself to make sure she was awake. As a little girl she had seen him once – a great, golden giant of a man, a prince from a fairy tale and now she was to sit at the same board with him, she plain, insignificant, Catherine Howard!
At last the King arrived and Catherine was rather disappointed when she first beheld him. He was still the tallest man she had ever seen and his tunic and short, green, gown of cloth of gold and black velvet were the garments of a fairy prince – but he was old! His face was flushed and his eyes seemed to have sunk into his flesh and he was fat! “But he is still the King!” she firmly assured herself.
She was afforded no time to brood upon her disappointment for her Uncle Norfolk led her forward to be presented.
She sank into a deep curtsy not daring to raise her eyes.
“My niece, Mistress Catherine Howard, Your Grace,” she heard her uncle inform the King. “My brother Edmund’s child.”
“Well, Mistress Catherine Howard, have you no word of greeting for your King?”
Catherine raised her eyes slowly, the colour flooding to her cheeks, “Your Grace, I am overcome…” she whispered.
“Your father served us well, will you also serve us, Catherine?”
The King was smiling and suddenly she felt her fear desert her. She smiled back, “Yes, Sire. I will serve you for ever since I was a small child my one desire in life was to meet you.” Her eyes were large and luminous in the candlelight, her cheeks still tinged with pink and her lips slightly parted and moist.
Henry was charmed. “What a sweet, adoring child,” he thought “but a child with the curvaceous body of a woman!” Taking her hands he raised her “Come, sit beside me. You have waited overlong to obtain your heart’s desire.”
Norfolk and Gardiner exchanged triumphant glances, their scheme was working very well.
Throughout the meal the King and Catherine chatted and Catherine's tinkling laughter was heard frequently, as was the more boisterous sound of Henry’s voice giving vent to his mirth and pleasure. By the end of the evening the Duke was confident that Catherine had gained more than just a foothold upon Henry’s affections for as he made ready to leave the King took his arm and drew him aside.
“A sweet, modest maid, Tom. But why have you not brought her to court ere this?”
“Sire, she has lived quietly in the household of my step-mother since the death of her parents.”
“We are greatly pleased with her, Tom.”
“She will remain at Lambeth under the care of the Dowager Duchess, but should Your Grace wish to honour us, I am certain that my niece will be overjoyed to see you.”
“I shall hold you to that, Tom!” Henry replied as he took his leave.
He was as good as his word and the Duke was delighted when the Royal barge made the journey more and more frequently to Lambeth. The girl seemed to be completely carried away by the attentions of the King, although they were never left alone together for Agnes was always present, silently impressing upon Henry the fact that Catherine was a simple, modest girl which was something that Catherine was not – although Norfolk did not know this.
Catherine had been left largely unsupervised whilst in the care of her grandmother and following the example of the Dowager Duchess’s frivolous ladies and the dictates of her own sensuous nature, had embarked upon two affairs, the first with her music master, Henry Mannox, when she was barely in her teens.
From the windows of Lambeth Palace, Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, watched with growing concern the King’s barge make the journey to Norfolk House. His concern turned to fear as the visits became more frequent and the Archbishop prudently went into retirement at Croydon for he saw plainly the danger.
Both he and Cromwell had suffered a humiliating defeat in 1539, when the Bill of the Six Articles had been passed. Under the guidance of Norfolk and Gardiner a council had been set up to try to bring uniformity to religion. That council had considered of Cromwell and Cranmer and the Bishops of Durham, Carlisle, Worcester, Bath & Wells, Bangor and Ely as well as Norfolk and Gardiner. Norfolk had made sure that the council – by virtue of their opposing views upon doctrine – would never agree upon vital matters and finally the Duke had stated, “Since the council cannot agree, I propose that the articles be reduced to six and a new council appointed to draw up an Act.”
The King had agreed and Norfolk had presided over the council which had drawn up the Six Articles, which were:
These articles were in the main completely alien to Cranmer’s Lutheran leanings but the Bill had been passed. Death and Attainder were the punishment against the refusal to accept the first article
and Latimer and Shaxton had resigned and were imprisoned, but Cromwell accepted defeat and Cranmer had turned traitor and gone to Mass.
Now he realised that the Duke had a trump card to play and the Archbishop quietly decided that discretion was the better part of valor for he had no wish to share the fate he was certain Norfolk had in store for Cromwell.
The King was infatuated with Catherine and was now anxious to be rid of his wife. The unfortunate Cromwell was once more summoned and instructed to find some grounds for divorce. Cromwell was a troubled man for he had always been aware of the Duke’s enmity and had quickly realised that the Duke intended to use yet another niece to implement the downfall of yet another enemy. However, he dutifully complied with his master’s wishes (as Wolsey had done before him) and an old pre-contract was resurrected.
The Princess Anne of Cleves having once been betrothed to the Duke of Lorraine and had never been released from that contract, it was possible that this constituted grounds for the annulment of the marriage, he informed the King. With this excuse and the declared testimony of the King that the marriage had not been consummated, Henry’s church declared through convocation that the marriage was null and void.
Quite surprisingly the Lady Anne seemed quite relieved to have become the King’s ‘Dearest Sister’ and received three thousand pounds per annum in lands and two palaces and was delighted with her settlement.
“Obviously delighted to be rid of her spouse,” Norfolk thought to himself, although he was relived that her acquiescence had considerably smoothed the path for Catherine.
He received a nasty shock when Cromwell was created Earl of Essex and wondered frantically whether his plans had been confounded by the King but on the 10th July, he was ordered to arrest Cromwell and transport him to the Tower to await trial for treason.
He was jubilant as he forced his way into Cromwell’s apartments, although the cold eyes showed little of the pleasure he felt.
“I am instructed by the King’s Grace to arrest you upon the charge of treason!” he bluntly informed his enemy.
Thomas Cromwell‘s broad, pallid face registered the shock but after a second his small, close set eyes gleamed. “I congratulate you, you have achieved what you set out to do, My Lord of Norfolk,” he quietly replied.
The Duke ignored him but continued to stare stonily at the thickset man before him.
“You have proved a worthy opponent, My Lord.”
“You are to be conveyed to the Tower.”
“Then let us have no more ado,” Cromwell replied stoicly.
In vain did Cromwell beseech his master to have pity upon him, Henry had no further use for him. Cranmer appealed to the Lords on his behalf (he was the only one of Cromwell’s former friends who did not desert him) but the Bill of Attainder passed through the House within two days. It took a little longer to pass the Commons but finally, without even being afforded a trial, Thomas Cromwell was condemned and this time the Duke had the satisfaction of seeing his hated enemy lay his head upon the block on 28th July, 1540.
With characteristic brutality the Duke rode hastily from the gruesome spectacle on Tower Hill to Oatlands to attend the wedding of his niece. The marriage was kept a secret for a short time but Norfolk – free at last of his powerful foe – was now the most powerful man in England, next to the King. He saw the fulfilment of his ambition when on the 8th August at Hampton Court, Catherine Howard was publicly acclaimed.
Catherine was enjoying herself tremendously and Henry was captivated by his “rose without a thorn” as he called her. The motto she had chosen (upon her uncle’s advice) was “No other will but his” and this endeared her still further to the King, especially as she had had these words embroidered upon the sleeves of her gowns.
Never in her life had she enjoyed so much attention. Henry was devoted to her and the members of his court sought her favour ubiquitously. Henry showered her with jewels – a square containing twenty-seven table diamonds and sixty rubies edged with pearls, a tablet of gold set with ballast rubies, a broach of thirty-three diamonds, another set with one white and one blue sapphire. Gold beads enamelled with red, a muff of black velvet furred with sable and containing thirty-eight rubies and the staggering total of five hundred and seventy-two pearls – she let them fall through her fingers with reverence, like a child set free in a treasure cave.
These riches, plus the sumptuous gowns, furs, hoods and fine linen, were hers and for a time they served to make up for the disappointment and disillusionment she felt when Henry, divested of his gorgeous raiment, climbed into bed beside her – an obese, old man with a hideous, running ulcer upon his leg. Sometimes she had to fight to keep from retching at the stench which permeated the air and sometimes she felt like crying as she wondered whether she had traded her youth and pleasures for a chest of precious stones and the title of ‘Queen’.
Some nights she would lie staring at the carved tester of the bed thinking longingly of the sensuous pleasure that young Francis Dereham had evoked within her, comparing it with the sickening feeling that Henry’s hands upon her body now evoked. Then she would shrug indolently and think “After all I cannot have everything and Francis could never have given me such jewels, such gowns or such an exalted position.”
On 22nd August, Henry took her on a progress to show her off to his subjects. They went first to Wilmslow, then on to Reading, Ewelm, Rycott, Notley. Buckingham and Grafton. The days were spent in feasting, dancing and hunting and Henry seemed to have found a new virility. Although his affliction would not permit him to dance, he enjoyed watching Catherine perform the galliards and other sprightly dances then fashionable. Her ladies included some of the noblest women in the land, Lady Margaret Douglas, the Countess of Sussex, Lady Clinton, Mary Howard and her grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk.
That Christmas was spent at Hampton Court and Catherine enjoyed herself immensely. She laughed heartily at the antics of Will Somers and the Lord of Misrule and was delighted by the pageants presented and danced until her tiny feet ached. The one thing that marred her pleasure was the quarrel she had with her uncle. Cocooned in Henry’s affection she had tended to ignore her uncle of late, she did not really like him and was a little afraid of him. He had rebuked her for her treatment of him and she had been irked by his manner.
“I thought that you were an obedient girl,” he had remarked coldly.
“I am obedient to the King, my husband,” she had replied.
“Do not forget who it was who helped you to the position you now hold.”
“It seems that I am not to be allowed to forget!”
He had looked at her intently and she had quailed beneath the icy gaze.
“You have made a glorious ascent, Catherine, let us hope that it is not a glorious ascent to the scaffold! Do not forget your cousin! She, too, thought that her position was secure!”
Catherine’s heart had stopped for a second and then continued to beat unsteadily. She had felt the sweat spring out upon her forehead but then she remembered how adoringly Henry had looked at her at supper and she replied with confidence, “But I shall be careful not to make her mistakes.”
Her uncle had glared at her angrily, he had thought that he could trust her but now she showed the signs of the same wilfulness that Anne had exhibited. He had turned and left her.
Seven
The relationship between Catherine and her uncle deteriorated until she barely acknowledged his existence, which served to infuriate him and cause him to disassociate himself with her entirely.
In the Spring of 1541, Yorkshire once again rose in rebellion under Sir John Neville.
“I have an evil people to rule,” Henry muttered upon being told the news, “but I vow that I will make them so poor that it will be out of their power to rebel!” he declared ominously. He therefore made preparations to subdue his rebellious subjects and one of his first acts was to clear the Tower of its prisoners. They were in the main executed, including the aged Countess of Sal
isbury, Margaret Pole, who had been under sentence for twelve months – her crime being that she was of the Royal House of York. She proudly refused to submit her head to the block and was horribly hacked to pieces by the brute of an executioner who chased her around the scaffold until she fell!
Henry now started his progress North, taking with him his wife. Grafton was their first stop upon the journey and then Northampton, but it was at Lincoln that Catherine embarked upon the love affair that ultimately cost her her life.
Catherine’s bright, new world had already begun to be infiltrated by dark figures from her past. The first indication of the trouble to come was a letter she had received from Mary Lasalles, begging her not to forget her former friends and hinting that the Queen should find employment at court for those friends. A small shadow of fear dimmed Catherine‘s happiness but she decided that it would be safer to concede to the thinly veiled threats and soon the former friends from her days at Horesham began to appear at court.
That small shadow became a great cloud when Francis Dereham appeared at court begging an audience with the Queen, and it was a very frightened girl who hurriedly and secretively met her former lover in a small, disused chamber at Hampton Court.
“Francis... I thought you still in Ireland. Why have you come?” she asked, furtively looking about her, terrified that they should be discovered.
“Why Kate, I thought that we were plight-trothed? Did you not swear to me that you would never love nor marry another?” he asked teasingly.
Despite her fear some of the old magic was re-kindled and once more she thought what a handsome, desirable man he was. He towered above her, his dark hair curling close to his head, his brown eyes bright with amusement and his teeth white and even – such a contrast to her husband!
“But that was a long time ago... things have changed. I was chosen by the King…”
“You were chosen by your Uncle Norfolk to be the pawn in his game. Poor, sweet, trusting Kate,” he murmured, placing his hand beneath her chin and tilting her face upwards.
The White Lion of Norfolk Page 10