Along with the Earl, one of the members accused of treason had been one of the King’s dearest friends, Sir Richard Greyson. Greyson was now in his early sixties, with extensive ties to the Irish leadership. Court gossip had accused him of false loyalties to England, swearing that he would promote Irish interests ahead of those of the crown. In addition to his Irish connections, he was thought by many—who had remained silent due to his close ties to the crown, to be a secret papist. Given his financial position among the nobility no one dared to challenge him. Thanks to the careful planning of his father he, like Henry, had been granted a massive inheritance, which he used to its fullest extent to build a lavish palace to house him, his wife, and two eldest sons Gregory and Richard the younger.
Richard the son was serving in the King’s forces as a Lieutenant at Dover. His father had afforded him a first class education in military strategy alongside other noble sons tutored by former commanding officers from the War of the Roses, and even from surviving veterans of the 1512 “War of the League of Cambri,” a victorious English naval battle over French forces. The family had been politically cautious, tending to sway with whichever party held the reins of power at the time. He gathered intelligence by paying court servants generously with additional coin and food.
George advised Anne to proceed with caution on Clifford; she needed to be moderate in her approach and advice, which Henry was bound to ask her for. George feared that Clifford’s influence was far too powerful to make a potential enemy of him until they could be absolutely certain of undoing the King’s confidante. Further, George reasoned that Audley had to have an ulterior motive to present a list of names alleging these crimes. Most of those on the list were high-ranking officials, many of whom were close friends or associates of either the King or prominent nobles. George urged caution and to investigate the minister before immediately jumping to conclusions that everyone on that list was guilty. He also advised them to outwardly proceed with the investigations into the alleged activities of those persons on the list, but to privately look into Audley’s own affairs and why he would present such a list.
Anne listened contently and agreed with her brother’s assessment of Audley, but when it came to Clifford she vehemently disagreed; she let her temper get the better of her. News of this particular alleged treason, this particular betrayal of her reforms, reignited her anger and hatred of dissenters. She had genuinely cared for Clifford, as did Henry, and just the notion that they had been betrayed set her into a fury. At one point she had exercised tolerance, but the policy of abiding scheming by the nobility silently, for the sake of their titles, had endured well past its expiration date. The familial argument hit a high point when Anne broke a mirror out of rage at her brother’s advice. George was able to calm her down but only after an hour of convincing her to investigate first before acting. After finally being able to leave her brother’s chamber calmly, she called for the Earl to be brought to her immediately, despite his post. All she could do at that point, was wait.
After leaving George’s chambers Anne went to see Henry regarding Audley’s allegations. The King was just as troubled over them as she was. Together they reviewed the list and Anne repeated the words of her brother, questioning the minister’s motives for coming forward with this information at that particular time. What was his true purpose? How did they know that the names on that list were not mere political enemies of Audley that he was attempting to do away with by manipulating them into action? Henry had not considered this possibility and had taken his minister’s allegations at face value, but Anne’s reasoning did make sense.
She was incensed that here again was the case of another minister attempting to usurp his authority, but this time, by trying to fool the King into acting first and asking questions later. True to the form that had developed since the Lady Frances affair, Henry heeded his wife’s counsel on how to proceed. She advised him to continue the inquiry so as not to arouse Audley’s suspicions, but that they needed to be certain that the minister was not simply using the power of his office to urge the King into doing his subject’s personal bidding. Henry agreed and told her that he would employ two of his best investigators to look into his minister’s dealings. Anne returned to her chambers that evening satisfied that the best outcome would be sought.
Later the same evening, the King recalled Audley to draw up a formal inquest into the allegations. In an unusual move, he also recalled Parliament into an emergency session for August 22nd, 1543, to announce the inquest. Politically, it was the equivalent of extending an olive branch to those members who were guilty of crimes against the crown to let them confess early and have a chance to plead for mercy. After the Lady Frances affair, not so long ago, perhaps Henry felt it was better to ease the court into potential scandal, rather than reveal such controversy all at once. He had a remarkably fragile ego, even after thirty-plus years on the throne. On the outside, one can judge that Henry was being honorable by allowing these nobles to come forward early; on the other hand, it can be viewed as him lacking the will to expose the truth if it meant harming his image and self conception as a “good judge of character”; the latter assessment would paint Henry as too vain to courageously meet the truth head-on. This would be in keeping with the cowardice and selfishness he showed in such circumstances throughout his reign. Further, this inquest announcement did not include any formal offer of leniency for those who might come forward.
The mixed messaging did not work as well as he may have hoped. There are no contemporary records regarding Henry’s mindset towards releasing this inquest to his council, but, given the facts, it seems quite remarkable that he would have done this for any other reason than to soften any blow to his own reputation at having tolerated so many traitors, so near to his own person.
When Parliament reconvened to hear Audley’s briefing, gasps and shouts of outrage reverberated throughout the chamber. One of the jurists walked out in protest. Sir Richard Rich, who had been so integral to the purge of Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More, attempted to regain control of the chamber and passionately promoted the King’s argument. Audley provided the closing speech, letting them know the inquest would be ongoing, beginning that day. When the crown had gathered enough evidence they would be presenting a formal case against the guilty parties and referred all questions regarding the proceedings to Audley’s office. They quickly exited the chamber to a loud chorus of boos and shouts of anger.
The Earl of Cumberland had finally managed to arrive at Sudeley on August 30th, 1543. By this time Anne had gathered her composure and arranged to greet the Earl in her chambers, along with her brother. Anne immediately began questioning him, before he could even take his seat. No pleasantries had been exchanged and Clifford had not been briefed on why the Queen had called him in. Her series of questions came off as an interrogation and the Earl immediately became emotionally distressed. He adamantly denied treason of any account, from the alleged extorting of the Cumberland monastery to keeping revenues from the crown. He pleaded with the Queen to remember that, by her very side, he had helped the monastery to keep its religious status, and even paid for the renovation of the building himself, including the refurbishment of the lecture halls. He said he had no reason to extort a building that had cost him a handsome sum (although in fact this could have provided him motive to recoup his expenses) and offered Her Majesty the records of his private accounts, detailing all of his financial dealings, including his tax payments to the crown. George accepted the offer and Clifford said he would order them immediately dispatched.
As to the affair, he confessed about his indiscretion with the Sherriff’s wife, but proclaimed that he wanted her for his wife and meant not to use her as a common whore; he said he truly loved her. Anne asked about his wife, the Lady Clifford, and he admitted that he had never loved her. His father had arranged for this marriage to unite their families’ lands, and to gain the sizeable dowry of nearly 300,000 pounds he
r family had offered. He found his wife in nearly every manner repulsive and could tolerate her company as little as possible. He met the Sherriff’s wife, Lydia, several years prior during a town festival and was immediately enraptured by her beauty, intelligence, and grace. In courting her thereafter, they both vowed to keep their relationship a secret, but as with any excellent scandal, at some point it was discovered. On one occasion Lydia’s husband, who was a drunkard who beat her often, received the reply of Clifford’s own anger, out of impulse motivated by love. That incident instilled a long resentment towards the Earl, who doubtless had vowed vengeance. The Earl apologized for the affair, in that such adultery was breaking God’s law, but he did not apologize for the love he felt in his heart.
In hearing his account, with such genuine sorrow, Anne felt sorry for Clifford and changed her approach. He was nearly in tears recounting his lost love and feared he might never see her again. He provided intimate details of their letters, tokens of affection, and places they had consummated their union. He apologized on his knees to Anne repeatedly, before she took him up by the chin telling him it was understandable, but wrong. She told him his actions could have left him harmed, but that she would personally see to his protection. She finally asked what reason Audley would have to accuse him of such evil deeds. Clifford confessed that he had often spoken out of turn against the minister during Privy Council sessions, which George verified, but insisted that he only ever spoke only out of love for his country and not for personal gain. He felt that Audley was only out to pave the way for his own further rise.
It all finally made sense to the Queen. Audley was doing just as George had suspected; attempting to use the King to shield himself from his own political enemies. She vowed to do all she could to aid Clifford out of this situation. The Earl was extremely grateful for her help, kissing her rings repeatedly. As he would soon learn, no debt to the Queen would be without repayment. Nevertheless, Clifford returned to his chambers at court thankful that he had not lost the Queen’s favor.
Meanwhile, Audley thought he had his enemies exactly where he wanted them. Greyson and Clifford had been two of his most prominent critics. Both men had wronged him by speaking out against his attempts at council to enforce controversial actions, such as increasing taxes, his pro-war policies, and on a personal front, they had insulted his taste in food and sophistication. Greyson in particular insulted his honor by telling Henry that the Chancellor had ulterior motives, contrary to Henry’s own, in running the country. When Audley found out, he never forgot it and had vowed to seek Greyson’s ruin. Since Clifford was at court, Audley ordered the Earl’s arrest; he was taken to the Tower the same day of his arrival back from the Queen’s audience for further investigation. Audley further ordered Greyson taken to the Tower as well, which took at least a week to bring him back to London from his estates.
When Anne found out, she went to Henry and asked for Clifford’s immediate release (she remained uncertain as to Greyson and remained silent as to that accused traitor). She recounted the story of Clifford’s confession to her and begged His Majesty to let the Earl go; arguing that they could use the enhanced loyalty Clifford would freely give them to aid them in other purposes. She convinced the King that Clifford was genuine in his confession and that his record books were on their way to either confirm or give the lie to his protestations. Giving into her, Henry released Clifford later that day and brought him to hunt with their Majesties.
Henry himself expressed regret over the arrest and the confusion surrounding it. Trusting Anne’s judgment he told the Earl of serpents in his court that meant to take him for a fool. He put his hand on Clifford’s shoulder and told him he was glad he could confide in him. The Earl was understandably shaken from the events, but was overjoyed to, in the circumstances, have been afforded the honor of a personal invitation to join the monarch on the hunt, and played cards with the King that evening. Henry asked for the Earl’s views on domestic affairs in the kingdom and his opinion of the inquest. The Earl expressed concern over the damage to honor and reputation that could follow from false accusations, reminding the King of his own plight, but encouraged that the inquests should continue if they be genuine in finding traitors about the realm. He advised Henry to “squash real [traitors] as one would a beetle.”
Audley visited Southwell in prison later that week, initially questioning him about the persons on his list and their alleged crimes. Southwell spit in his face and failed to yield any information. The only thing Southwell said was to warn that Audley would end up just like his predecessors. After leaving Tyndale prison, Audley sought and received permission from Henry to further interrogate these nobles and other government officials yet in prison to uncover the extent of their depravity and scheming. Reading between the lines, Audley had clearly been seeking authority to torture, which Henry fully understood, and told him to use any method he saw fit to hear the truth before dismissing the minister. Audley sent a dispatch to the Constable of the Tyndale Prison, stamped with the King’s signature (given the frequency of such writs, such a stamp had been in use since the 1530s) authorizing and encourage the use of “further interrogation methods” for the noble prisoners. Constable Robert Eckland was well aware what the Chancellor meant and later that week had his guards and the crown’s investigators take Greyson and Southwell to the torture chamber. Greyson died on the rack from heart failure before giving up any information. Southwell talked, and talked, and continued talking before scalding wax was poured in his eyes.
The court, and Audley, noted carefully that where the Queen sought to intervene, mercy would be forthcoming. He would pull back on his attempted manipulations and seek to delay any further overreach, so as not to anger again the Mistress of the Realm.
9.3 The Healer Queen
As the investigations into the minister and other members of the nobility were underway, the Queen managed to keep herself otherwise occupied with charity work. This is perhaps most evident in her personal expenses, which show not only the usual monies paid to St. Mary’s Orphans, but also to several reformed monasteries, to assisting court petitioners that had been turned away, and some 4,500 pounds of her own funds (a massive amount for the day) to open up a hospital in London. After her second miscarriage, which had nearly killed her, she became immensely interested in the medical arts, and would become the chief patron to a revolution in medicine that would affect all of Europe. Closer to home, she would continue to fund the facility that became known as “Queen Anne’s Hospital” until her death, along with anonymous donations to many other charities for the commons.
Medicine in Tudor times was barbaric. Surgeons, at least for those not in the nobility, were usually also barbers, with limited if any practical training. No anesthesia was available, apart from forcing patients to drink themselves into a stupor with quantities of alcohol that were dangerous in and of themselves, before even the minor surgeries known at the time, and “surgeons” relied heavily on concepts of treatment involving the use of leeches or direct bleeding to “remove poisoned bodily humors.” Any layman or merchant could sell medical treatments with the proper permissions from the state, which knew no better than to approve of whatever treatments were in vogue.
The Queen successfully petitioned the King for a change in the law such that to portray oneself as a surgeon one would need to pay for a license and be accredited as understanding “accepted medical practices,” with the fees for such licensing of course going to the crown. Under the new medical laws, any persons or facilities operating without such license would be shut down and their operators imprisoned until their fines could be repaid. This reform was intended to ensure the safety of the citizenry.
Of course, despite the King’s desire that Anne be seen as legitimate by the people, the credit for the reform would go to Henry. Official records do, however, show that the instigation of the reforms followed a petition to Henry by Queen Anne. Although the practices of the day rem
ained far below modern understanding of how to properly fight disease, this early revolution in state regulation of the medical trade can be traced to Queen Anne and her interest in medical care.
For weeks leading up to the Medical Licensing Act, Anne had been in talks with some of the best physicians of the time. She met regularly with a council of doctors from Oxford and Cambridge, the King’s personal physicians, and invited the leaders in medicine from Paris, the German territories, and even from the Ottoman Empire—under leave of the Caliph now known as Suleiman the Magnificent—to participate in discussions as to how medical standards might be raised. The leading advances of the age were so brought to England. The Ottoman ruler, aware of the Protestant King’s hostility to the Catholic powers constantly threatening his own conquests, was pleased to share signs of his doctors’ superiority over his enemies’ physicians with a King equally hostile to Rome.
Henry gave his blessing for her to hold such meetings, and even attended one or two himself. True to his earlier reputation as a Renaissance King, Henry was so impressed with what he heard that he would go on to periodically invite leading physicians from throughout the continent to court to teach English doctors their discoveries and their art.
The Ottoman delegation had been the first to be received at court. They were invited in August 1544 and arrived with a team of their top three doctors. Medicine from the Islamic Caliphate in the 16th century was far more advanced than in the rest of Europe. After dining one evening, the Ottoman Ambassador met privately with the King and Queen to discuss the latest medical achievements. He told them of new techniques, beyond the standard bleeding of the time, and stressed the use of compressed herbs, exotic spices, and ground metal complexes to heal a variety of common ailments such as ulcers, skin rashes, and various types of fevers.
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