Page 84 of Love, Remember Me

Thomas Cranmer knew all about John Lascelles. He was a fanatic. A reformer. A man who had absolutely no fear of the heretic's fire because he believed his view of God and the Church was the correct one. The archbishop sensed that Lascelles's visit portended trouble, but God only knew what he would do or to whom he would go next if Thomas Cranmer did not see him. The king and the court would be back within a few weeks' time. Better to get this over with and send Lascelles back to obscurity.

The archbishop sighed deeply and said to his secretary, "Is he waiting outside, Robert?" Of course he was.

"Aye, Your Grace, he is," the young priest replied.

Another sigh. "Very well, then, I will see him now."

The archbishop's secretary smiled sympathetically at his master, saying, "I will bring him in, my lord."

Lascelles bustled in, filled with great self-importance. "My lord archbishop, I thank you for seeing me so quickly," he said, bowing.

The archbishop's secretary discreetly withdrew.

"Sit down, sir," Thomas Cranmer said, "and speak your peace."

Lascelles seated himself and began. "I have information of a most delicate and possibly dangerous nature, my lord. It concerns the queen." Lascelles paused to take a breath, for his words had come out in a great rush with his eagerness.

I do not want to hear this, the archbishop thought to himself. The king is happy. Whatever this man says will make the king unhappy. Have we not had enough difficulties with wives, dear Lord? Must Henry Tudor and England suffer further? He looked directly at Lascelles. "Say on, sir, but be advised if this is merely tittle-tattle, or idle gossip, I shall have you beaten from my palace. I know the direction in which you go. I have not time for foolishness."

"I regret, my lord," Lascelles said, "that what I have to say is truth." Master Lascelles went on to tell the archbishop a tale told him by his sister, Mistress Mary Hall, a chamberer in the household of the old dowager duchess of Norfolk. Mistress Hall had known Catherine Howard since she came into the care of the duke. She had been very involved in raising the girl, and was deeply fond of her. The picture Lascelles painted of the young queen's youth was not, however, a pretty one.

"Is your sister a woman given to gossip, Master Lascelles?" Thomas Cranmer asked sternly when his visitor had concluded his tale. The charges made by this man were very serious indeed.

"My sister is a good Christian woman, Your Grace. It is not in her nature to lie. Besides, there were others in the dowager's household, now members of the queen's household, who were also privy to the lady Catherine's bad behavior. If asked under oath, they would testify to my sister's veracity and the queen's youthful misbehavior."

"I will hear no more from you today, Master Lascelles. I wish to speak with your sister, Mistress Hall. You but repeat that which you say she has told you. She is the witness to the facts of this matter. Bring her to me tomorrow, and I will examine her," Thomas Cranmer said.

John Lascelles arose from his seat and bowed to the churchman. "I will bring Mary to you in the morning, my lord," he promised.

When his disturbing visitor had departed, the archbishop sat back and contemplated what he had been told. It was a shocking story. Was it true? Though aware that the queen's Howard relations were not reform-minded, Thomas Cranmer never considered Catherine Howard or her family a threat to the Reformation in England. Duke Thomas had no violently deep religious convictions. He simply liked things done in the manner in which they had always been done. He did not like change, and resisted it where he could, but he also knew how to bend in a strong wind in order to survive.

John Lascelles, on the other hand, was fanatical, and determined in his desire to see Catholicism in its most orthodox form eradicated from England, from its Church, from the minds of its people. He was the sort of man who would dare, or do, anything to gain his way in the matter.Was he to be believed? Why had his sister suddenly come to him now and told him the secrets of the dowager duchess's household when the king had been married for over a year to the young queen? Did Lascelles believe that by slandering the queen he could engineer her removal and bring about the king's remarriage to a reformist? He was a fool if he thought he could manipulate Henry Tudor, or the see of Canterbury.

On the following morning Mistress Mary Hall arrived with her brother for her audience with the archbishop. She was a pretty woman, and had obviously dressed in her very best gown to meet him. It was dark silk with a more modest neckline than he was used to seeing. Her head was covered with a pretty French hood, and she curtsied to him most politely, dipping her head in respect.

"You will wait outside, Master Lascelles," he told the woman's brother. "Mistress Hall will be quite safe with me. Come, my daughter, and we will talk." He led her into his privy chamber and closed the door behind them firmly. "It is a wet and dank day, Mistress Hall," the archbishop said. "We will sit by the fire while we talk." He was doing his best to put her at her ease, for he wanted every detail that he could convince her to recall about this matter. With luck, it would go no further than this room, and he would not have to act on it at all. Lascelles, he had decided in the night, was naught but a troublesome fanatic who would eventually have to be dealt with.

Thomas Cranmer waited politely while Mistress Hall settled her skirts about her. He pressed a small cup of sweet watered wine upon her, then sitting back in his own chair, he said, "Tell me why you spoke to your brother regarding the queen's former life."

"I did not want to, Your Grace," Mary Hall said, "and I should never have said a word, for as naughty as Mistress Cat was, I hoped her marriage had changed her for the better. John, and my husband Robert, however, were constantly at me for not seeking a place in the queen's household. I said I did not want a place with the queen, but they would not let it rest. They persisted and they persisted. Each day I was told of another of my former friends in the dowager duchess's household who had sought and been granted a place with the queen. I can manage my husband, but John is a different kettle of fish. Finally I went to him, and I told my brother to leave me be, for I did not want a place with the queen. Indeed I felt sorry for her.

" 'Why?' he asked. 'Because,' I said to him, 'all those women are demanding service with her. She dares not to refuse them lest they gossip of her former life at Horsham, and Lambeth.' I did not feel it was Christian of them to do so, Your Grace. If the queen had called upon me to serve her, I should have gone gladly, but I did not want to be like the others, implying a threat, demanding service.

"My explanation was not enough for John. He is worse than a rat terrier when he gets his teeth into something. He wanted to know exactly what the queen had done as a girl that would give others the opportunity to press her. Mind you, I think much of what went on was not really her fault. She was a young girl, an innocent. She was always being pressured by one or another of the gentlemen. I tried to warn her, but she is so headstrong, and I was but a chamberer.

"The dowager never saw what was going on. She did not want to see it. When there was a problem with her charges, she would act, but she rarely saw a problem unless it was pointed out to her. In this case the others did not want to bring to her attention what was going on beneath her roof, for they were as involved themselves in the wickedness, and having much too much of a good time."

"Tell me everything you remember," the archbishop said quietly. He had such a kind and gentle manner about him that Mary Hall felt completely at ease, which was just what the archbishop intended.

"I have known the queen since she was a wee bit of a thing, sir. I looked after her when she and her sisters first came to Horsham. Oh, she was such a naughty little thing, but her heart was good. You could not help but love her, and I did. The year before she went up to Lambeth Palace from Horsham, I told the dowager how much she loved music. My mistress sent a musician from her household, a handsome, feckless young man called Henry Manox, down to teach my lady Catherine how to play upon the lute, and how to sing pleasingly.

"Young Manox sought far above his station. My poor little mistress thought he meant to wed with her when indeed all he really intended was to have her virtue. Oh, he was a bad one, was Master Manox! I warned him away from her, but they met secretly, I later learned. Then one day when the old dowager was visiting, she caught my mistress and Manox fondling each other's parts. She beat them both for their impudence, and sent Manox back up to London."

"Did your lady regret his departure?" the archbishop asked.

"Nay, not really," Mary Hall said matter-of-factly. "She had told anyone who would listen that she meant to wed with him, and that they were plight-trothed. It was not so, however. 'Twas but the dream of a maid with her first love. He could have been the love of her life, and she would have not been allowed to marry him. She is a Howard after all. He, a common musician."

"Of course," Thomas Cranmer agreed, nodding. "When did the lady Catherine come up to London, Mistress Hall?"

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