Life at court was mundane and quiet that spring. Noneofthe King's children was there and there was little in the way of entertainment. The young Queen was bored. Then news arrived of an uprising against the King in Yorkshire. Headed by Sir John Neville, a fervent Catholic, its purpose was to depose Henry VIII's Lord President of the North and restore the old forms of religion in England. Henry also seems to have feared that disaffection among his subjects would lead to plots for the reinstatement of the Plantagenets. A few sprigs of that ancient royal house still lived: one was Margaret Pole, who had a valid claim to the throne, although she herself had never expressed any desire to occupy it. Indeed, for years, she had rendered loyal and devoted service to the Tudors, and it was mainly because of her sons' disaffection that she had been imprisoned in the Tower. Yet now, with a rebellion on his hands, the King behaved as if the Countess was a threat to his security, and - in spite of the Queen's protests and pleas for mercy - he ordered that the death sentence 441provided for in the Act of Attainder pa.s.sed against Lady Salisbury be put into effect immediately.

On the morning of 28 May 1541, there occurred one of the worst atrocities of Henry's reign. The 68-year-old Countess was awakened by the Constable of the Tower with the news that she was to die that day. She was given a short while to prepare her soul for death, then led out to the scaffold on Tower Green, where Anne Boleyn had died, and where a crowd of spectators awaited her. The executioner was not the usual one employed on such occasions and was young and inexperienced. Faced with such a prisoner, he panicked, and struck out blindly, hacking at his victim's head, neck and shoulders, until he had finally butchered her to death.

The cruel end of Lady Salisbury sickened even the Tudor court, but the King was unrepentant. The northern uprising was speedily put down, and its leaders executed at the end of July. The peace of the realm had been preserved, and the security of the dynasty maintained, although Henry's reputation had suffered in the process. He was now more feared than beloved by many of his subjects.

On 30 July 1541, the King left London to go on a progress with the Queen and a great train of courtiers to the Eastern counties and the North, the centres of so much recent disaffection. He believed that his presence there might inspire loyalty and also act as a deterrent against any thought of future revolts. There were also two other matters to be accomplished. One was the collection of the huge fines levied on the cities that had supported Neville's rebellion, and the other was a meeting between Henry VIII and his nephew, James V of Scotland, who had promised to ride down to York to greet his uncle.

The royal cavalcade travelled via Dunstable, Ampthill, Grafton, Northampton, and Stamford to the city of Lincoln. Here, after formally pardoning the citizens for their part in the Pilgrimage of Grace and the recent uprising, the King went with the Queen into the cathedral, where they heard ma.s.s. During their stay, they were lodged in the adjacent Bishop's Palace. After leaving Lincoln, they journeyed to Boston, then a flourishing port, where Henry was able to indulge his pa.s.sion for ships. From Boston, the progress wound its way into Yorkshire, pa.s.sing into Northumberland as far as Newcastle - the furthest north Henry had ever been during his reign - and then south again to Pontefract, whose castle had been in 1400 442[.

the scene of the murder of Richard II. The court arrived there at the end of August.

Meanwhile, disturbing news from abroad had reached England. The Emperor and the King of France were on the brink of war with each other, and both wanted Henry's support. In August, Francis I proposed a marriage between the Lady Mary and his heir, the Duke of Orleans (the Dauphin had died in 1536); but Henry was reluctant to commit himself and so offend Charles. Thereafter, relations between England and France, never very good of late, deteriorated steadily. Since his excommunication in 1539, Henry VIII had been building elaborate defences along the south coast of England, in antic.i.p.ation of a possible French invasion, and his castles still stand today at Deal and Walmer. He did not trust Francis, suspecting him of plotting an invasion of his kingdom, and for this reason he wanted the Emperor as a friend and ally, bearing in mind also the vital trade links between England and the Low Countries.

Henry did not let mattersofstate affect his enjoyment of the progress; as for the Queen, she was in high spirits, revelling in the warmth and approval emanating from the people who lined the roads and lanes to see her. Yet in Pontefract, she came face to face with her past when a young man who had once lived in the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess's household presented himself at court. His name was Francis Dereham, and he came with a recommendation from the d.u.c.h.ess, whose distant relative he is thought to have been, and who had led him to believe that the Queen would be pleased to have him in her household. But Katherine feared there was another reason that had prompted Dereham's appearance at court, the same reason that had inspired Joan Bulmer to press to be taken into her service. Dereham possessed information that could cause untold harm to Katherine's reputation, and he might well mean to exploit that knowledge, and use it to gain preferment. Hence, when he too requested employment, she dared not refuse, and on 27 August he was appointed her private secretary. 'Take heed what words you speak,' Katherine warned him. When the King asked why she had employed Dereham, she told him that the d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk had asked her to be good to him - 'and so I will.'

Dereham proved to be a most unsuitable addition to her 443household. He had a fiery temper, and was over-familiar with his royal mistress, arousing the dislike of many who felt that Katherine was giving him preferential treatment. One of the Queen's gentlemen ushers, a Mr John, fell out with Dereham when the latter remained seated at dinner or supper after the Queen's council had risen, an action that seemed deliberately disrespectful. Mr John sent a messenger one evening with orders for Dereham to rise with everyone else, but Dereham refused. 'Go to Mr John and tell him I was one of the Queen's counsel before he knew her, and shall be there after she hath forgotten him!' he said insolently. This provoked a brawl between the two men with Dereham emerging the victor. It was as well the King did not hear of it, for there were severe penalties for violent behaviour within the court, though Dereham could be discreet when he wanted to, and he kept in the background when Henry was around. Others noticed his proprietorial and somewhat familiar manner with the Queen. Katherine was always susceptible to male flattery and attention, and there were those in her household and at the court who were strongly attracted to her, and jealous of Dereham's influence. She did not know it, but she was standing on the edge of a precipice.

In the middle of September, the King's train arrived in York, where Henry was due to rendezvous with James V. James, being distrustful of his uncle, did not turn up. Relations between England and Scotland had never been very good during Henry's reign, but from now on they would be plainly antagonistic. After waiting with mounting anger for several days for the King of Scots, Henry gave up and went off to Hull, arriving there on 1 October, and staying for five days. Henry was feeling much restored and in a holiday mood, though the progress was now drawing to an end. During October, the royal cavalcade moved slowly south, pa.s.sing through Kettleby and Collyweston and Ampthill, before reaching Windsor on the 26th.

Two items of bad news awaited the King on his return. One concerned the death of his sister, Queen Margaret of Scotland, on 8 October at Methven Castle, and the other was a report from Prince Edward's doctors that the four-year-old heir was ill with a fever. Marillac told Francis I that Edward was 'too fat and unhealthy' to 444 live long, but he was clearly being malicious. Fortunately, the King's initial panic upon hearing the news of his son's illness was soon alleviated by tidings that the child was making a good recovery. Continuing reports of Edward's progress put Henry into a good mood, and he seems at this time to have become even fonder of his queen, if that were possible. He could not bear to be without her for long, calling her the jewel of his age, and continually thanking G.o.d for sending him such a wife. He was even planning a public service of thanksgiving. But his idyll was soon to be abruptly and tragically shattered.

While the King was away on progress, a Protestant called John Lascelles came and confided to Archbishop Cranmer that he knew things about the Queen's past that would reflect upon her marriage with the King. He vowed he would rather die declaring the truth, since it so nearly touched the King, than live with the concealment of the same. Cranmer asked why he had not come forward before, to which he replied that he had been wrestling with his conscience.

Cranmer was not an unkind man, but he preferred to do whatever was expedient, and he was, it must be remembered, a secret Protestant himself, as well as an advocate of reform. He had never approved of the King's marriage to Katherine Howard, although he held nothing personal against her: it was what she represented that he privately and pa.s.sionately opposed. He therefore saw in John Lascelles a catalyst for change: if anything could be proved against the Queen, it might be possible to remove her from the political scene and discredit her supporters, the powerful Catholic faction. The way would then be clear for the King to marry a bride put forward by Cranmer and his partisans who would be as energetic as Anne Boleyn in the reformist cause.

Cranmer therefore listened patiently and courteously to what John Lascelles had to say. He heard that Lascelles's sister Mary had, before her marriage to a Mr Hall, lived with Katherine in the ladies' dormitory in the d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk's house at Lambeth, and had known her well. Later, when it was announced that Katherine was to become Queen of England, Mrs Hall had been prompted by her brother to seek service with her. 'I will not,' she answered, 'but I am very sorry for her.' Lascelles had asked why. 'Marry, for she is light, 445both in living and in conditions [i.e. behaviour],' was the answer. Lascelles did not elaborate on this, but told the Archbishop that his sister could supply more details if she was required to.

When Lascelles had gone, Cranmer pondered for a long time. Anne Boleyn had been found guilty of misconduct after marriage; was it possible that the same thing might be proved against Katherine Howard? Fornication before marriage was not a crime, but it argued a lightness of morals that might lead a young and impressionable girl into an adulterous relationship after the knot was tied. The possibility was there. Yet Cranmer knew he was treading on very dangerous ground. Anne Boleyn's fall had come about because the King was desperate to be rid of her: he was deeply in love with Katherine, and likely to react violently to any inference that she was not as virtuous as he believed her to be. It would not be wise to act until a solid case of incontrovertible fact had been established. Indeed, it might be wiser not to do anything at all.

There was much at stake. Cranmer knew Henry well enough to predict that he would sacrifice his personal needs in the interests of the state; adultery in a queen jeopardised the succession and was insulting to the King. Henry's vast pride would not permit him to retain a wife who had cuckolded him, or made a fool of him. He would be devastated, but he would not be stupid. It was essential, however, for Cranmer to get his facts right beforehand, for it would be death to incur the King's displeasure over such a matter.

He summoned Mary Hall. Her information was far more precise than her brother's. She told Cranmer that some years before, when she was living in the household of the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk, it was common gossip that the Queen, then a very young girl, had been encouraging the attentions of her music master, Henry Manox. One of the ladies of the household, Dorothy Barwike, had told Mary that Manox was troth-plight to Katherine Howard, 'with whom he was much in love'. Manox, of course, had no business to be affiancing himself to a daughter of the Howards, and Mary Hall took it upon herself to reprove him for his behaviour.

Man [she had said sharply], what mean thou to play the fool of this fashion? Know not that if my lady of Norfolk knew of the love betwixt thee and Mistress Howard, she will undo thee? She is 446 come of a n.o.ble house, and if thou should marry her, some of her blood would kill thee!

Manox had sneered and replied, Hold thy peace, woman! I know her well enough. My designs are of a dishonest kind, and from the liberties the young lady has allowed me, I doubt not of being able to effect my purpose. She hath said to me that I shall have her maidenhead, though it be painful to her, not doubting but I will be good to her hereafter.

Mary had been appalled by his cynicism, and the fact that he was leading Katherine on with empty offers of of marriage, but she was a charitable woman and excused him on the grounds that he 'was so far in love with her that he wist not what he said'. Which says far more about Mary Lascelles's ignorance of the ploys of the male s.e.x than it does about Manox's true intentions. marriage, but she was a charitable woman and excused him on the grounds that he 'was so far in love with her that he wist not what he said'. Which says far more about Mary Lascelles's ignorance of the ploys of the male s.e.x than it does about Manox's true intentions.

But Katherine could also be fickle. Shortly afterwards she transferred her affection to Francis Dereham, without having granted Manox the ultimate favour. Their affair progressed quickly and soon, according to Mrs Hall, they became lovers. For a hundred nights and more, Dereham had crept into the ladies' dormitory and climbed, dressed in doublet and hose, into Katherine's bed. The other women and girls in the room were left in little ignorance of what was going on by the noises that issued from beyond the drawn bed-hangings, and one maid refused to sleep nearby because Katherine 'knew not what matrimony was'. At the same time, Manox, full of of spite, was going about boasting that he knew of a private mark on Katherine's body. He told Mary Hall that he would speak to Katherine about her behaviour with Dereham, but Mary told him to keep quiet. 'Let her alone,' she said, unable to contain her disgust at Katherine's behaviour 'for if she holds on as she begins, we shall hear she will be naught within a while.' spite, was going about boasting that he knew of a private mark on Katherine's body. He told Mary Hall that he would speak to Katherine about her behaviour with Dereham, but Mary told him to keep quiet. 'Let her alone,' she said, unable to contain her disgust at Katherine's behaviour 'for if she holds on as she begins, we shall hear she will be naught within a while.'

Cranmer listened to all this with interest, giving due attention to his informant. He could find nothing amiss in her character, and later reported to the Council that 'she did from the first opening of the matter to her brother seem to be sorry, and to lament that the King's Majesty had married the Queen'. Now he dismissed her after taking 447a written statement, and retired to think about what she had told him.

On 30 October, the King and Queen came to Hampton Court. Henry now gave orders for the special service of thanksgiving for his marriage to take place on 1 November. On that day he publicly thanked G.o.d in the Chapel Royal for blessing him with so perfect a companion: 'I render thanks to Thee, O Lord, that after so many strange accidents that have befallen my marriages, Thou hast been pleased to give me a wife so entirely conformed to my inclinations as her I now have.' At the same time, in churches throughout the land, every good subject paid similar honour to the Queen's virtues.

While Henry was giving thanks, Cranmer softly entered the Chapel, not without apprehension. He had decided, after much deliberation, that he ought to lay what information he had before the King now, although he had agonised for hours over how best to do it. In the end, he had decided to summarise the facts in a letter, which he now laid by the King's side before retiring from the service.

Back in his chamber, Henry read what Cranmer had written: that his cherished Katherine was accused of 'dissolute living before her marriage with Francis Dereham, and that was not secret, but many knew it'. His first reaction was one of astonished disbelief. He summoned Cranmer at once and demanded an explanation. Cranmer repeated all that had gone before, and ended by saying he had been forced to convey the news by letter 'as he had not the heart to tell him by mouth'. Henry was stunned, but he kept his composure. He told the Archbishop he did not think there was any foundation in these malicious accusations; nevertheless, Cranmer was to investigate the matter more thoroughly. 'You are not to desist until you have got to the bottom of the pot,' said Henry. At the same time, he gave orders that the Queen was to be confined to her apartments with just Lady Rochford in attendance until her name was cleared, as he was confident it would be. He himself would stay away from her until then. In fact, he never saw her again.

Katherine and her ladies were practising dance steps when the King's guards arrived and said it was 'no more the time to dance'. When they dismissed most of her servants, Katherine - who had more on her conscience than pre-marital romps with Manox and Dereham - became extremely agitated, and demanded to know the 448reason for her confinement, but the guards could not enlighten her. She thought she knew already, and in the days to come the knowledge prevented her from eating and sleeping. In fact, she was not, as yet, in such a bad case as she feared, for the King was inclined to believe in her innocence because, in his view, the evidence provided by John Lascelles and Mary Hall was a malicious fabrication. On 2 November, he told Sir Thomas Wriothesley and Sir Anthony Browne that: He could not believe it to be true, and yet, the accusation having once been made, he could not be satisfied till the certainty hereof was known; but he would not, in any wise, that in the inquisition any spark of scandal should arise against the Queen.

On the following day, Cranmer questioned John Lascelles again, but the man only repeated and confirmed what he had said earlier, affirming it to be the truth. Cranmer sat on this knowledge for two days before pa.s.sing it on to the King. In the meantime, he discovered that the Queen had taken Francis Dereham into her service. On 5 November, he and the Council informed the King that they believed the allegations against Queen Katherine had a sound basis in fact: that she now employed one of her former lovers was seen as very sinister indeed. 'She has betrayed you in thought,' Cranmer told his master, 'and if she had an opportunity would have betrayed you in deed.'

It should be remembered that at this stage Cranmer had not one jot of evidence beyond what he saw as his own logical conclusions that Katherine had ever committed adultery. But Henry's suspicious mind had also jumped to that same logical conclusion. He slumped in his chair, pierced to the heart; for some time he could not speak. Finally, he broke down in tears in front of the Council, weeping copiously and pouring out his heartbreak. They marvelled at this, thinking it 'strange in one of his courage' to show such emotion. 'The King has wonderfully felt the case of the Queen,' reported Chapuys. Indeed, from that moment onwards, Henry was an old man. The semblance of youth had gone for ever. On the same day, he left Hampton Court with a few attendants and galloped to Oatlands, even though the house was full of poignant memories. He 449remained there for some days, away from the public gaze and the court gossip, his pride broken, and his heart. He did not want to air his shame.

Chapuys thought the King might well be more merciful towards Katherine than her relatives, who had already abandoned her in an attempt to save their own skins. Only Norfolk, who perhaps felt to a degree responsible for what had happened, showed some compa.s.sion towards his niece. He was present when Katherine was informed of the charges of misconduct laid against her, and witnessed her hysterical reaction. He told Marillac that she was refusing to eat or drink anything, and that she did not cease from weeping and crying 'like a madwoman, so that they must take away things by which she might hasten her death'. Norfolk had already a.s.sumed that his niece would end on the block as her cousin had done, and it is obvious that Katherine herself expected it.

The Queen was not the only person affected by what had happened. Lady Rochford, who was guilty of aiding and abetting crimes the Council did not yet know about, suddenly realised the danger she was in and 'was seized with raving madness'. Since the two women were confined together, it was thought by many that the same fate would befall the Queen. Earlier on, before Henry left Hampton Court, Katherine had dashed past her guards and tried to reach him while he was at prayer in the Chapel Royal, but she had been intercepted by her pursuers and dragged screaming back to her rooms. She knew, as well as everyone else, that if she could see Henry she stood a good chance of being forgiven. But Henry knew his own weakness in this respect, and kings must not be seen to be weak. He had removed himself, and Katherine knew her case was hopeless.

At Lambeth, the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk heard reports of the Queen's misconduct, and realised that it was under her roof that that misconduct had taken place. She also recalled certain incidents that tended to confirm what was being said. Nevertheless, she took a more rational view of what was happening than most of her clan. 'If there be none offence sithence the marriage, she cannot die for that was done before,' she reasoned. Yet she began searching the house for incriminating evidence, knowing that, if Katherine fell, the Howards would topple with her.

450Cranmer was now certain that he could uncover evidence of adultery after marriage. When he visited the Queen in her apartments on 6 and 7 November, it was in the hope of wringing a confession of this from her. Without it, no one could proceed against her, for premarital fornication was neither a crime nor acceptable grounds for annulling a marriage. Knowing that much depended upon the outcome of the interview, Cranmer a.s.sumed his most paternal and solicitous manner. Afterwards, he wrote an account of what had happened for the King.

He found the Queen 'in such lamentation and heaviness as I never saw no creature, so that it would have pitied any man's heart in the world to have looked upon'. It was impossible to speak rationally with her in this state, and therefore he did not stay long. Katherine remained in 'a vehement rage' all night, and was still quite frenzied when he returned the next morning. Even Cranmer was shaken by her behaviour, and feared for her sanity. Yet he brought her hope, in the form of a letter from her husband, promising her mercy if she would confess her faults. When this letter was read to her, she calmed down a little, although Cranmer feared it was only a temporary lull. But at least they were able to converse sensibly for a while, Katherine telling him she was willing to do all he asked of her and that she would reply to his questions 'as truly and faithfully as she would answer at the Day of Judgement and by the Sacrament which she received on All Hallows Day last past'. Cranmer himself admitted later that he meant to frighten her by exaggerating the grievous nature of her offences as well as 'declaring to her the justness of your Grace's laws, and what she ought to suffer by the same'. Only then did he intend to extend the offer of mercy to her.

Yet Katherine was so distraught that he felt constrained instead to stress the 'benignity and mercy' of the King in an attempt to comfort her, sensing that any mention of the law might drive her 'into some dangerous ecstasy, or else into a very frenzy, so that the words of comfort, coming last, might have come too late'. When Katherine at last understood that Henry really did mean to deal gently with her, 'She held up her hands and gave most humble thanks to your Majesty, who had showed her more grace and mercy than she herself could have hoped for.' After that, she became 'more temperate and moderate', even though she did not cease sobbing and weeping, and 451at one point, when panic hit her once more, she started screaming. The Archbishop was becoming familiar with this pattern, and tried hard to reason out the cause, doing his best to allay her fears while at the same time trying to glean more information. If she had 'some new fantasy come into her head', he said gently, she could confide it to him.

Gradually, Katherine pulled herself together. When she could speak coherently, she cried, Alas, my Lord, that I am alive! The fear of death did not grieve me so much before as doth now the remembrance of the King's goodness, for when I remember how gracious and loving a Prince I had, I cannot but sorrow. But this sudden mercy, more than I could have looked for, maketh mine offences to appear before mine eyes much more heinous than they did before. And the more I consider the greatness of his mercy, the more I do sorrow in my heart that I should so misorder myself against his Majesty.

And she wept so bitterly that nothing Cranmer could say would comfort her. Eventually, she calmed down, and he left her to rest until the evening.

When he returned, she was still relatively calm, and they talked awhile, he giving her words of comfort, but at six o'clock she again grew hysterical, remembering that at that hour Master Heneage usually brought her news of the King and a loving message from him.

Cranmer did not obtain a great deal of information from Katherine about her liaison with Dereham before her marriage, but he did learn enough to conclude that there had probably been some kind of precontract between them that would invalidate Katherine's marriage to the King, even though Katherine herself 'thinks it to have been no contract'. The Archbishop obtained a written declaration or confession from her, describing what had pa.s.sed between her and Dereham, but, after he had left, she sent word to say that she wished to change it. On Cranmer's return, she insisted that Dereham had in fact raped her with 'importunate force', and that she had not at any time freely consented to intercourse with him. Cranmer knew, of course, that she was lying, and suspected she might well have lied 452.

about other things, such as whether or not she had betrayed the King after her marriage. He warned her that her life was forfeit - although there was no legal basis for this statement - and reminded her again that the King was prepared to be merciful. Her written confession of her fault and her plea for her husband's forgiveness might soften Henry's heart. It was her only hope.

The Queen's confession did not satisfy Cranmer. In it, Katherine declared that Dereham had 'many times moved me unto the question of matrimony', but she had never accepted any of his proposals. She had neither willingly indulged in illicit intercourse with him, nor had she said the words alleged by Mary Hall to have been spoken by her to Dereham, 'I promise you I do love you with all my heart.' She was also sure she had never promised by her faith and troth that she would have no other husband but him. She was too naive to realise that by admitting to a precontract she could have saved her life, for if she had never been the King's legal wife, she could not be accused of adultery, which she now realised they were trying to prove. Instead she seems to have felt that confessing to the existence of a precontract would somehow prejudice her case. She had certainly been affectionate towards her lover, for she had given him a collar and sleeves for a shirt, which had been made by 'Clinton's wife of Lambeth', as well as a silver bracelet, although she accused him of s.n.a.t.c.hing the latter from her and keeping it in spite of her protests. A ruby ring found by the King's men in Dereham's possession was 'none of hers'.

The news that Dereham, Manox and other members of the d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk's household had been arrested a day or so previously and imprisoned in the Tower was enough to send her into another paroxysm of hysterical panic, yet it also constrained her to be more truthful. Dereham, she continued, had given her presents, mainly lovers' tokens. 'He knew of a little woman in London with a crooked back, who was skilled in making flowers of silk,' who made him a French fennel to give to Katherine, and later a heart's-ease for a New Year's present, although the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess returned it to him, considering it a most improper gift. Yet Dereham was not put off. He bought some sarcenet, which Katherine had had made up into a quilted cap by the d.u.c.h.ess's embroiderer, a man surnamed Rose. Although Katherine had not specified any particular pattern, Mr Rose decorated the cap with 453friars' knots, which were a symbol of true love. When Dereham saw it, he exclaimed, 'What, wife, here be friars' knots for Francis!' The fact that he was used to addressing her as 'wife' was taken to be strongly indicative of a precontract between them.

These, then, were the only gifts that pa.s.sed between the lovers, except for 10.00 that Dereham gave to the Queen during the recent progress - for what purpose is not specified. There was also the matter of 100 he left with her when he went away from the household at Lambeth to seek his fortune in Ireland, where he is thought to have turned to piracy. This money was the bulk of his savings, and he entrusted it to Katherine, saying that, if he did not return, 'I was to consider it as my own.' To Cranmer and others, this argued an established relationship based on a firm understanding that the young couple would marry some day.

When Katherine was asked whether she had called Dereham husband and he had called her wife, she answered that it was common gossip in the household that they would marry; some of Dereham's rivals - a reference to Manox, perhaps - were very jealous of him, and it pleased him to flaunt his conquest in their faces. He had asked Katherine if he might have leave to refer to her as his wife; she agreed, and promised to call him husband. Thus they fell into the habit of using these terms.

Dereham seems to have been quite a ladies' man: he kissed Katherine openly and often, and did the same to many other women in the house. On one occasion, he kissed Katherine so pa.s.sionately that those watching them observed 'that he would never have kissed me enough'. Dereham retorted, 'Who shall let [prevent] me to kiss my own wife?' Then the others teased him, saying the day would surely come when 'Mr Dereham will have Mrs Katherine Howard.' 'By St John!' said Dereham, 'You may guess twice and guess worse!' Katherine inwardly cringed at such talk, and asked Dereham what would happen 'an [if] this should come to my lady's ear?' But it never did. The d.u.c.h.ess was a neglectful guardian, and was either deaf to the rumours or deliberately ignored them. If she was confronted with something not to her liking, then she dealt with it, but otherwise she seems to have cared little for the moral welfare of those in her charge.

Katherine's confession next dealt with the delicate matter known 454 as 'carnal knowledge', and dealt with it honestly and frankly. She confessed that on many occasions Dereham hath lain with me, sometimes in his doublet and hose, and two or three times naked, but not so naked that he had nothing upon him, for he had always at the least his doublet, and as I do think his hose also; but I mean naked, when his hose was put down.

On the nights he visited her bed, he would bring with him wine, strawberries, apples, 'and other things to make good cheer, after my lady was gone to bed'. He never attempted to steal the d.u.c.h.ess's keys, and nor did Katherine; the door to the ladies' dormitory was frequently left unlocked at night for a variety of reasons, so they had no need. Sometimes, he would arrive at Katherine's bedside early in the morning, and behave 'very lewdly', but never, she insisted, was this at her request or with her consent.

There was always the fear of discovery. 'What shift should we make if my lady should come in suddenly?' asked Wilks and Baskerville, two of the women sharing the dormitory. Katherine told them she would send her lover into a nearby gallery, and on one occasion was obliged to do this. When Dereham learned that Katherine might be going to court, he said he would not remain for long in the d.u.c.h.ess's household, to which she replied that he might do as he liked. She had felt little grief at the prospect of being parted from him, and had not shed a tear over it; nor had she told him - as alleged by Mary Hall - he would never live to say, 'Thou hast swerved.' Everyone that knew her was aware how glad she was to be going to court, and once she had left the d.u.c.h.ess's household and Dereham had gone to Ireland, she had not written to him. As far as she remembered, the last conversation between them prior to their parting had concerned Katherine's distant cousin, Thomas Culpeper. . Dereham had heard a rumour that she was going to marry Culpeper, ' and asked if it were true, but she denied it, saying, 'What should you trouble me thereabouts, for you know I will not have you; and if you heard such report, you know more than I.'

In mentioning Thomas Culpeper in her statement, Katherine unwittingly played into Cranmer's hands, for Culpeper was now at 455court, one of the most highly favoured gentlemen of the King's privy chamber. He was a cousin of the Queen on her mother's side, and Katherine had been fond of him since childhood. In fact, in recent months, that fondness had developed into something far deeper and more dangerous. Cranmer did not know this, but his suspicions were now aroused - he was, it must be remembered, searching for evidence of adultery - and he persuaded the Council to order Culpeper's arrest and detention for questioning.

Thus the evidence against the Queen built up. Cranmer sent her confession to the King on 7 November, along with the further statement alleging that Dereham had raped her by force. In the meantime, Katherine received a visit from some of the lords of the Council, who helped her to draft a plea for forgiveness to send to the King. It read: I, your Grace's most sorrowful subject and vile wretch in the world, not worthy to make any recommendations unto your Majesty, do only make my most humble submission and confession of my faults. And where no cause of mercy is given on my part, yet of your most accustomed mercy extended to all other men undeserved, most humbly on my hands and knees do desire one particle thereof to be extended unto me, although of all other creatures most unworthy either to be called your wife or subject. My sorrow I can by no writing express, nevertheless I trust your most benign nature will have some respect unto my youth, my ignorance, my frailness, my humble confession of my faults and plain declaration of the same, referring me wholly unto your Grace's pity and mercy. First at the flattering and fair persuasions of Manox, being but a young girl [I] suffered him at sundry times to handle and touch the secret parts of my body, which neither became me with honesty to permit, nor him to require. Also Francis Dereham by many persuasions procured me to his vicious purpose, and obtained first to lie upon my bed with his doublet and hose, and after within the bed, and finally he lay with me naked, and used me in such sort as a man doth his wife, many and sundry times, and our company ended almost a year before the King's Majesty was married to my Lady Anne of Cleves, and continued not past one quarter of a year, or a little above.

456This dates the liaison with Dereham to the autumn and winter of 1538-9, when Katherine was about thirteen; her affair with Manox belongs to the period immediately prior to that.

Now that she had declared the whole truth to the King, she humbly besought him to consider the subtle persuasions of young men and the ignorance and frailness of young women. I was so desirous to be taken unto your Grace's favour, and so blinded with the desire of worldly glory, that I could not, nor had grace, to consider how great a fault it was to conceal my former faults from your Majesty, considering that I intended ever during my life to be faithful and true unto your Majesty after; nevertheless, the sorrow of mine offences was ever before mine eyes, considering the infinite goodness of your Majesty towards me from time to time ever increasing and not diminishing. Now I refer the judgement of all my offences with my life and death wholly unto your most benign and merciful Grace to be considered by no justice of your Majesty's laws but only by your infinite goodness, pity, compa.s.sion and mercy, without the which I acknowledge myself worthy of extreme punishment.

When Henry read this abject plea, he was somewhat cheered. His beloved wife had not been unfaithful to him after all. Then Cranmer arrived, to inform him that, in his opinion, the Queen had in fact been precontracted to Dereham, and that her marriage to the King was therefore invalid. An annulment now seemed inevitable, but at least it would spare Henry from having to execute another of his wives.

In more buoyant mood, Henry returned to Hampton Court, where he 'socialised with the ladies, as gay as ever I saw him', wrote Marillac. He did not, however, see his wife. Then, on 10 November, on the pretext that he was going hunting, he returned to London, picnicking in a field on the way. At Whitehall, he sat in council from midnight until 4.0 or 5.0 a.m., and again the following day, remaining closeted for some time and only breaking for meals. Obviously a matter of great importance was under discussion, as the 457King did not often attend Council meetings, nor stay so long when he did. When they emerged, the councillors seemed troubled, especially Norfolk, who was not normally a man to show in his face what he was feeling. The court, which had now arrived from Hampton, was seething with rumours, not least of which was that Henry wanted to change his queen yet again. Marillac's master, Francis I, was anxious for Henry to take back Anne of Cleves, as he had already allied himself with the German princes and hoped that by such a connection Henry would see fit to join forces with him against the Emperor. Marillac was therefore working for a reconciliation between Henry and Anne, a sure indication that it was being taken for granted by most people that the King would soon be a free man. Marillac also reported a rumour that the Queen's physicians had told the King she would never bear children. This is unlikely to have been true, and was probably one of the wilder rumours current at that time. Not so wild was his supposition that Katherine would follow Anne Boleyn, her cousin, to the block.

She, meanwhile, was still confined to her chamber, and was permitted no entertainment; there she would remain until the Council had determined what to do with her. Cranmer was playing for time. He was still trying to uncover evidence of adultery, although as yet there was none. He was also worried that Henry would break his resolve and see Katherine: the chances that a reconciliation would then take place were high. Cranmer therefore suggested that the Queen be sent to a private house until her fate was decided. He had yet, he said, to question Dereham, Culpeper and others who had been involved in the affair. Henry agreed. On 11 November, the Archbishop went to Hampton Court and informed Queen Katherine that she was to be sent to the former Abbey of Syon at Brentford in Middles.e.x, where she would be under house arrest but 'yet served as queen'. In two days' time she would be taken by river to her new lodging. Lady Rochford, who was believed to know more than she would divulge about her mistress's behaviour, was sent to the Tower to await questioning.

While he was at Hampton, Cranmer learned from the Council that the King had decided to lay before Parliament, as the supreme court, the matter of the Queen's 'abominable behaviour'; Henry meant to arouse Parliament's indignation and disgust at her conduct and 458therefore her precontract with Dereham would not be referred to, as it const.i.tuted her only defence.

No man would think it reasonable that the King's Highness (although his Majesty doth not yet take the degree of estate utterly from her) should entertain her so tenderly in the high degree and estate of a queen, who for her demerits is so unworthy of the same.

It seems that what Henry wanted from Parliament at this stage was a divorce.

On 13 November, while Katherine prepared to leave Hampton Court, Sir Thomas Wriothesley arrived, paid his respects, then summoned her household into the great chamber, where he 'openly declared certain offences she had done', urging those in possession of useful information to divulge it. Then he discharged everyone present except those few ladies who were to accompany Katherine to Syon Abbey. These were given clothes for their mistress: six French hoods with edges of goldsmiths' work, six pairs of sleeves, six gowns, and six kirtles of satin damask and velvet. On the King's orders, all were of sober design, and unadorned with precious stones or pearls, such as a queen would usually wear. Katherine was obliged to leave all her other clothes, her gorgeous court dresses and jewelled hoods, at Hampton Court, as well as her jewellery, which was delivered into the keeping of Sir Thomas Seymour, who took it, with other valuables, back to the King. Katherine was then taken by barge to Syon Abbey, which had recently been vacated by Lady Margaret Douglas, who had been sent to Kenninghall in Norfolk.

459.

Worthy and just punishment At Syon, Katherine was treated with respect. She lacked neither food nor warmth, and was served by her own ladies. Yet, from her point of view, she had been deprivedofall the trappings of queenship that mattered to her and consigned to a seclusion that did little to alleviate her depression or allay her fears. She had no idea of what was to happen to her, nor was she informed of what was being said about her by those under questioning. She was certainly not aware that the interrogation of all the suspects had begun that very day, nor that letters had already gone out to all English amba.s.sadors at foreign courts, relating her offences - her name would soon be a byword in Europe for immorality.

She was left to wander around the three chambers a.s.signed to her. They were furnished in moderate comfort, but the hangings were of 'mean stuff. There was no cloth of estate. Edward Baynton, her chamberlain, dined in one room with the rest of the staff, while Katherine kept to the other two. She had four gentlewomen and two chamberers in attendance, as well as her confessor. Lady Baynton was chief lady-in-waiting. Katherine had certainly fared better than Anne Boleyn. There were no spies listening to her every word, and she was not yet in the Tower. There was, perhaps, still hope.

Archbishop Cranmer was not a cruel man, but he was determined that the Queen should be sacrificed in the cause of reform. If she was allowed to live, there was always the possibility that the King might relent and take her back. It was therefore imperative that a charge of 460 adultery be brought against Katherine, even though there was as yet no evidence for it. It was hoped by the Archbishop and his supporters that the interrogations of the prisoners in the Tower would yield enough information to send the Queen to the block.

The musician, Henry Manox - said by Mrs Hall to have taken s.e.xual liberties with Katherine - was the first to be questioned. He said that he had been engaged by the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Norfolk to teach Katherine music and singing. He admitted having tried to seduce her, and divulged how the d.u.c.h.ess had unexpectedly come upon them both one day while they were indulging in intimate foreplay. She had beaten them both for it, and commanded them never to be alone together again. This had not deterred Manox, and he had continued to lay siege to Katherine until she had agreed he might caress her private parts - in his own words, he had 'felt more than was convenient'. However, he swore on the d.a.m.nation of his soul that he had never enjoyed full intercourse with her. Eventually, he said, Katherine had tired of him, and transferred her affections to Dereham. He, Manox, had been extremely jealous, and had waylaid her one day, saying, 'Let me perceive by some token that you love me.' 'What token shall I show you?' Katherine had retorted, 'I will never be naught with you, and able to marry me you be not.' Manox had then sought to be revenged on his former sweetheart, and had gone straight to the d.u.c.h.ess with a friend surnamed Barnes and warned her that, if she were to rise again half an hour after retiring to bed, and go to the ladies' dormitory, 'you shall see that which shall displease you'. He did not know whether she had acted upon his advice. The Council, seeing that he had committed no crime and could help them no further, then released him.

They next called Katherine Tylney, one of the Queen's chamberers, as it was believed that she might help to prove adultery against the Queen. Knowing that Katherine had engaged Dereham as her secretary during the recent progress - an action that now seemed d.a.m.ning in the light of what had been discovered about her past - Sir Thomas Wriothesley questioned Mrs Tylney about the Queen's behaviour on that progress. Had she left her chamber any night at Lincoln or elsewhere? Tylney recalled that at Lincoln Katherine left her room late at night on two occasions and went to Lady Rochford's chamber, which was up two short flights of stairs. On the 461.

first occasion, Mrs Tylney and Margaret Morton had accompanied their mistress, but Katherine had sent them both downstairs again. Tylney went to bed, but Morton had later returned upstairs, and did not come to bed until around two o'clock. Tylney woke then, and said, 'Jesus, is not the Queen abed yet?', to which Margaret replied, 'Yes, even now.' On the second night, Katherine made all her other ladies go to bed, and took only Tylney upstairs with her. She remained in Lady Rochford's chamber as long as before, and Tylney was obliged to wait outside with Lady Rochford's waiting woman, so she never saw 'who came unto the Queen and my Lady Rochford, nor heard what was said between them'. Tylney was certain that Katherine had gone to Lady Rochford's room to meet someone. She also remembered taking 'sundry strange messages' from her mistress to Lady Rochford, so strange that she 'could not tell how to utter them'. This had gone on after the court returned to Hampton. There, one day, Katherine had told Tylney to go to Lady Rochford and ask her 'when she should have the thing she promised her'. Lady Rochford had answered that 'she sat up for it, and she would the next day bring her word herself Wriothesley was pleased with Tylney's evidence, and told Sir Ralph Sadler that she 'hath done us worthy service' and that he was 'picking out anything that is likely to serve the purpose of our business'. Certainly Tylney's evidence pointed at something very odd going on, and the Council had little difficulty in concluding that the Queen had gone to meet a lover - possibly Dereham - in the room of Lady Rochford, who had acted as her bawd. If this were true, then Tylney's evidence would be d.a.m.ning.

In a mood of grim antic.i.p.ation, the Council summoned Margaret Morton, Tylney's companion on the nights in question. She deposed that Lady Rochford had definitely been a party to some intrigue being carried on by the Queen, not only at Lincoln, but also at Pontefract and York. At Pontefract, the Queen had had angry words with herself and another chamberer, Mrs Luffkyn, and had forbidden them to enter her bedchamber. Morton was implying here that Katherine had an ulterior motive for keeping them out. Lady Rochford had also conveyed letters between the Queen and a third party, whom Morton supposed to have been Thomas Culpeper. One night, while the court was at Pontefract, Katherine was in her 462bedchamber with no attendant other than Lady Rochford-which, in itself, was unusual; Lady Rochford had not only locked the chamber door, but also bolted it on the inside. Consequently, when the King came unexpectedly to spend the night with his wife, he found the door fastened, and there was some delay before Lady Rochford opened it to admit him.

The Council now questioned Morton closely about Thomas Culpeper. Hitherto, they had suspected Katherine of intriguing with Dereham, but it now appeared that she might have been even more profligate with her favours. Morton confirmed their suspicions when she declared that she 'never mistrusted the Queen until at Hatfield I saw her look out of her chamber window on Master Culpeper, after such sort that I thought there was love between them'. Once, Katherine had been alone in her closet with Culpeper for five or six hours, and Morton thought 'for certain they had pa.s.sed out' (a Tudor euphemism for o.r.g.a.s.m). All the while, she remembered, Katherine had 'been in fear that somebody should come in'.

Katherine had not only been playing with fire, but she had also been indiscreet about it, and incredibly stupid. The Council now wasted no time in searching through Culpeper's effects, and found a letter, signed by the Queen (and appallingly spelt, for she was barely literate), which confirmed what everyone had begun to suspect, that she had, indeed, been conducting a love affair with her cousin. It read: Master Culpepper, I heartily recommend me unto you, praying you to send me word how that you do. I did hear that ye were sick, and I never longed for anything so much as to see you. It maketh my heart to die when I do think that I cannot always be in your company. Come to me when Lady Rochford be here, for then I shall be best at leisure to be at your commandment. . . . And thus I take my leave of you, trusting to see you shortly again. And I would you were with me now, that you might see what pain I take in writing to you.

Yours as long as life endures, 463Katherine's letter, although undated, was the most telling evidence against her, supported as it was by a weight of incriminating allegations by Tylney and Morton.

The Council continued its relentless quest for evidence: it was now hot on the trail. Alice Restwold, one of the inmates of the d.u.c.h.ess's household at Lambeth, gave an account of the time Dereham came into Katherine's bed when she herself was sharing it. She had got out 'for shame' and refused to sleep there again, for she was a married woman, and knew 'what belonged to that puffing and blowing'. This might have brought a touch of humour into the otherwise grave enquiry, but it did not a.s.sist a charge of adultery. Joan Bulmer also gave evidence, but her statement is no longer extant. It appears that she had at some stage abetted the Queen's intrigues.

The Council decided to call Lady Rochford next. Jane Rochford, who was later described as 'the princ.i.p.al occasion of the Queen's folly', had by now calmed down a little, and was lucid enough to be questioned. Thinking only of saving her own skin - for she, more than anyone, had cause to know the penalties for adultery in a queen - she abandoned Katherine to the wolves and admitted that Culpeper had had s.e.xual intercourse with her mistress - she could not think it otherwise, 'considering all things that she hath heard and seen between them'. She testified that their intrigue had begun back in the spring, probably at the time when the King was suffering from depression and had left his wife to her own devices. Apparently, Culpeper had always cherished an affection for his pretty cousin, and it was he who had made the first advances. At first, they had not been welcome. 'Will this never end?' Katherine had sighed irritably to Lady Rochford, and had asked her to 'bid him desire no more to trouble me, or send to me.' But Culpeper had been persistent, and eventually the Queen had admitted him into her chamber in private. Before very long, they were meeting in Lady Rochford's rooms, with Lady Rochford standing guard in case the King came. It is likely that Culpeper had been there on the occasion described by Morton when Henry had come to sleep with his wife.

According to Lady Rochford, Katherine was well aware of the risks she was taking. 'This will be spied one day, and then we will all be undone,' she had said. Marillac later told Francis I that Katherine had used Dereham to incite Culpeper's jealousy, telling Lady 464Rochford to say to Culpeper that, if he would not listen to Katherine's side in the petty arguments they frequently engaged in, 'there was behind the door another'. Lady Rochford, however, said nothing of this, but her evidence was of vital importance, because it was that of an eyewitness and a partic.i.p.ant. She was also guilty of aiding and abetting acts of treason, and the King was not known to be merciful to such offenders. Thus, for all her willingness to co-operate, she found herself back in the Tower after her examination. It was then that madness took its final hold on her.

Thomas Culpeper was the next to be interrogated. He was 'a beautiful youth', and had stood high in the King's favour. He confessed to having fallen in love with the Queen some months before, and admitted that she would at first have nothing to do with him. Later, she had grown warmer towards him. He was aware of her past, for she told him that, had she remained in the maidens' chamber at Lambeth, she would have 'tried' him. But her high rank had, he said, precluded any intimacy between them. Nevertheless, according to Culpeper, she was before very long 'languishing and dying of love for him', and would call him her 'little sweet fool'. He admitted that he had visited her in private, saying that Lady Rochford had contrived the interviews. Yet it was Katherine who, at every house she visited on the progress, would 'seek for the back door and back stairs'. At Pontefract, she was fearful that the King had set a watch on the back door, so Lady Rochford made her servant watch the courtyard to see if this was so.

As the affair progressed, so the Queen's fear of discovery deepened, although it was not sufficiently acute for her to abandon her lover. She warned him to beware if he went to confession, lest he should shrive him of any such things as should pa.s.s betwixt her and him; for if he did, surely the King, being Supreme Head of the Church, should have knowledge of it.

Culpeper had promised not to say anything compromising.

At this stage, the Council wanted to know if Culpeper had committed adultery with the Queen. He answered that, although Lady Rochford had 'provoked him much to love the Queen, and he 465intended to do ill with her and likewise the Queen so minded to do with him, he had not pa.s.sed beyond words'. This, of course, was not what the a.s.sembled lords had been expecting to hear. Lord Hertford spoke for them all, therefore, when he told Culpeper that his intentions towards Queen Katherine were 'so loathsome and dishonest' that in themselves they could be said to const.i.tute high treason. By this, it became apparent to Culpeper that he was doomed, and Katherine with him, and, the interrogation being at an end, he was taken back to prison.

The privy councillors deliberated. At length, they concluded that they 'vehemently suspected' the Queen of adultery with Thomas Culpeper, especially in view of his having been brought by Lady Rochford to her chamber at Lincoln during August, and having stayed there alone with Katherine from eleven o'clock at night until four o'clock in the morning. It was also considered significant that the Queen had, around this time, given him a gold chain and a 'rich cap'. 'You may see what was done before marriage,' reasoned Cranmer; 'G.o.d knoweth what has been done since!' The Council thought it might be expedient for the Archbishop to examine the Queen again, 'for she hath not, as appeareth by her confession, so fully declared the circ.u.mstances of such communications as were betwixt her and Culpeper'. It was felt that Cranmer, by careful questioning, 'might get of her more information'. A signed confession of adultery was what was really required, and the councillors had few doubts that the young Queen could be bullied or coerced into making one. Accordingly, Cranmer and Wriothesley went to visit Katherine at Syon to question her 'with respect to her intimacy with Culpeper'. They promised her mercy if she would make full confession of her faults, but Katherine, under their interrogation, strenuously denied intimacy with Culpeper, and persisted in her denial, even though she was probably lying to save her own skin and her lover's.

Meanwhile, the rumourmongers were once again busy. Two London housewives had been hauled before the Council and reprimanded for their unthinkinglese-majeste.One, Elizabeth Ba.s.sett, had wondered if 'G.o.d is working His own work to make the Lady Anne of Cleves queen again'. Her friend, Jane Ratsey, had replied that 'it was impossible that so sweet a queen as the Lady Anne could 466be utterly put down', and Mrs Ba.s.sett had exclaimed, 'What a man the King is! How many wives will he have?' Speculation that Henry might take back Anne of Cleves was widespread, since it was understood by many that the reformist party was working to bring down the Queen and the conservative Howard faction. But such an idea had never crossed the King's mind, and the Bishop of Winchester was obliged to be quite blunt with an eager German diplomat, saying that Henry 'would never take back the said lady'.

The Queen's fall was now common knowledge. Instinctively, her Howard relations banded together, fearful in case her disgrace should reflect upon them. They guessed that Cranmer would bring down the whole clan if he could. The Dowager d.u.c.h.ess's servant, Pewson, had broken the news to her that the Queen had played the King false (he said, incorrectly, that it was with Dereham), and that Katherine Tylney, the d.u.c.h.ess's relative, was privy to her guilt. This rather inaccurate version of the truth so frightened the d.u.c.h.ess that she ordered the immediate burning of all Dereham's papers and effects remaining at Lambeth House. At the same time she made it known that she did not believe the tales about the Queen to be true; however, if they were, then Katherine and her lovers 'deserved to be hanged'.

The d.u.c.h.ess also took it upon herself to question William Damport, a friend of Dereham's who still remained in her household. She told him she had heard that Dereham and Queen Katherine had been arrested, and asked if he knew why. Damport said he thought the evidence was based upon 'some words spoken by a gentleman usher'. The d.u.c.h.ess confided to him that she was greatly alarmed 'lest any harm should befall the Queen in consequence of evil report'. She was also worried that the King would point the finger of blame at her for having neglected her duties in respect of Katherine's moral welfare. She realised now that she had been very remiss, and it was far too late to do anything about it.

Contrary to what the d.u.c.h.ess had heard, Katherine was as yet suspected of adultery with Culpeper only, and not with Dereham, though rumour was doing its best to magnify her crimes. The Duke of Norfolk, having washed his hands of his niece, told Marillac that she had 'prost.i.tuted herself to seven or eight persons'. Norfolk was in fact making sure that his own neck was safe by publicly slandering 467Katherine at every opportunity, in case people remembered who it was that had first brought her to the King's notice, and his voice spoke louder than any in denouncing her.

Henry now knew the worst, that Katherine had cuckolded him with Culpeper, whom he had favoured. He took the news relatively calmly, yet it must have been a dreadful blow to him. On 16 November, Chapuys told the Emperor that the King would be more likely to show mercy to Katherine than her own relatives, especially Norfolk, who said, 'G.o.d knows why, that he wished the Queen was burned.' Yet whether the King wished to show mercy or not, the law would take its course. Nor could he permit someone so unsuitable to enjoy the rank of Queen of England. On 22 November, a proclamation made at Hampton Court announced that Katherine had forfeited her honour and should be proceeded against by law; henceforth, she would no longer be called Queen, just plain Katherine Howard.

The Council was still collecting evidence. Norfolk was sent to search his stepmother's household at Lambeth and to interrogate its occupants. William Ashby, one of the d.u.c.h.ess's servants, revealed how his mistress had searched Dereham's coffers and removed all his papers, saying she would 'peruse them at her leisure, without suffering any person to be present'. She had declared, in the presence of her comptroller, that 'she meant not any of these things to come to revelation'. The d.u.c.h.ess, he added, had been 'in the greatest fear' lest her servants tell her son, Lord William Howard, about the 'familiarity' between the Queen and Dereham. She had wondered whether the King's promised pardon would extend to 'other persons who knew of their naughty life before the marriage'. Finally, Ashby told Norfolk that the d.u.c.h.ess had rifled through the papers of Damport, who by now was also a prisoner in the Tower, suspected of misprision of treason. The picture Ashby presented was one of a very frightened woman with an overburdened conscience, who was almost certainly guilty of that same crime. Her failure to disclose what she knew of Katherine's early life, and her attempts to destroy all evidence of it, pointed convincingly to this.

After the Duke had left, the d.u.c.h.ess began to realise what a nasty predicament she was in. Feigning illness, she took to her bed, but this did not prevent the lords of the Council, among them 468 Wriothesley and Southampton, from coming to Lambeth to arrest her. She sent word down to them that she was 'not well enough to be moved', yet they insisted on seeing her, 'the better to perceive whether she were indeed as sick as she pretended'. They quickly perceived she was not, and informed her that the Lord Chancellor wished to question her. At this, the old lady pretended to suffer a relapse, but the lords, 'with much ado, got her to condescend to her going'. The d.u.c.h.ess's fears were not unfounded. By nightfall on the day of her arrest, she too was a prisoner in the Tower, after a most unsatisfactory session of interrogation by Lord Chancellor Audley, in which she said enough to incriminate the whole Howard family.

Towards the end of November, the Council decided to question the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess again. Wriothesley and Southampton visited her in the Tower, where they found her in bed, and genuinely ill this time. They a.s.sured her 'on his Majesty's behalf of her own life if she would in some sort make us her ghostly confessors'. She replied that 'she would take her death of it, that she never suspected anything wrong between them'. She had indeed 'perceived a sort of light love and favour between them more than between indifferent persons, and had heard that Dereham would at sundry times give [Katherine] money', but she had thought this all 'proceeded from the affection that groweth of kindred, the same Dereham being her kinsman'. She begged the King's forgiveness for not having disclosed what she knew before his marriage to Katherin