* * *
But the pendulum was to swing one more time. On 20 December, Cranmer, whose palace at Canterbury had just burned down and whose brother-in-law had been killed in the flames, was summoned to Court in a letter signed by Norfolk and Lord Privy Seal Russell. The letter was apparently routine. But it was marked by Secretary Paget: 'Haste, post, haste'. Why? The explanation, almost certainly, is that the conservative majority on the Council had now made their final push against the Archbishop. They had asked Henry for permission to arrest him and send him to the Tower, and the King had agreed.
40
Henry, however, was playing a double game. On 12 January the Court returned to Whitehall at the end of the Christmas festivities, which had been spent at Hampton Court. Within the next day or two, and late at night, Henry sent Anthony Denny, Cranmer's friend and the leading Reformer in the Privy Chamber, to summon the Archbishop to his presence. The King told Cranmer that he was to be sent to the Tower on the morrow, and, when the Archbishop protested his willingness to submit to the King's justice, upbraided his folly. 'Think you to have better luck that way than your master Christ had?' he asked brutally. But Cranmer was not left to the tender mercies of his fellow councillors. Instead, Henry gave him his ring, to use as a talisman when the Council tried to arrest him.
The summons came next day. Cranmer showed the ring and the Council, led by Norfolk and Russell, tumbled into the King's apartments to abase and exonerate themselves.
41
Thereafter, while Henry lived, Cranmer was untouchable.
* * *
There was a postscript to the affair. When Cranmer journeyed from Canterbury to London in the last days of 1543, to meet whatever fate awaited him, he brought with him in a chest the great cache of papers that had been accumulated by his and Leigh's investigations. The intention was that Henry should peruse the papers himself. Whether he did so remains unclear. But the information they contained undoubtedly played a part in the forthcoming Parliamentary session.
First, there was an unusually generous General Pardon, which was tagged to the Act making the 1542 forced loan to the King an outright gift. Foxe suggests that the Pardon was the work of the conservatives, who were eager to avoid their impending punishment for perjury or conspiracy. But it was equally useful to the Reformers, since religious offences were not excluded. Of even more benefit to the Reforming party, however, was the Act which tightened up judicial procedure under the Act of Six Articles. This was designed to rule out the 'secret and untrue accusations and presentments', which had been 'maliciously conspired against the King's subjects' in 1543. The Lords, with its inbuilt conservative majority, was unenthusiastic about the Bill, and insisted that 'certain words be put in and out'. But they had to acquiesce in its passage. Gardiner's worst fangs were now drawn.
42
It would, of course, be absurd to attribute Gardiner's defeat in 1543– 4 solely to Catherine. But to ignore her entirely, as most recent historians have done, is equally mistaken. For it is clear, on grounds of chronology alone, that Henry's sixth marriage marks a watershed in religious policy. Catherine's own personal role in the change was almost invisible at the time and will remain forever opaque. But we are probably right to guess that her servant Fulke's crucial part in thwarting the second stage of the Windsor plot was only the tip of an iceberg.
For who else was there? Cranmer was too insecure to defend himself, much less to challenge policy. Denny and Sir William Butts, the King's doctor, brought all their backstairs and behind-the-scenes influence to bear on the side of Reform. But, since they had been unable to prevent the conservative excesses of the first half of 1543, it seems unlikely that they alone could have reversed them in the last quarter of the year.
43
The only new factor, in short, in the delicate balance of forces round Henry was Catherine herself. Shrewd, tactful and patient she might be. But she was also, as we have seen, a woman with a mission – and, in the circumstances of 1543, an opportunity as well. For the extended Progress meant that she had the King pretty much to herself for the first six months of her marriage, when her influence was at its freshest and most appealing.
The resulting religious turnaround suggests that she used her moment well.
* * *
We can go further. Save for the all-important fact that she had not become pregnant, Catherine had made the most successful debut of any of Henry's wives.
She, and her family, had their reward at Christmas 1543.
Probably on 22 December the Court took up residence at Hampton Court for the Christmas holidays. The following day was a Sunday, when the King went in solemn procession to hear mass in the Holiday Closet of the Chapel Royal. While he was there, Catherine's brother William, Lord Parr of Kendal, and her uncle and Lord Chamberlain, Sir William Parr, took up their places in the Pages' Chamber next to the royal apartments. Normally, the Chamber was fairly unsalubrious, as such service rooms tend to be. But it was cleaned up for the occasion and its floor strewn with fresh rushes. After mass the King returned to his apartments and stood under the throne canopy in the Presence Chamber. Thither, in turn, Catherine's brother and uncle were led by peers of appropriate rank. The former was created Earl of Essex (in right of his already estranged wife), while the latter was made a baron as Lord Parr of Horton.
44
The double ceremony was unique and it marked the Parrs' arrival in the front rank of the English aristocracy. Moreover, their promotion was exceedingly rapid. Anne Boleyn had had to wait some three years before her father was made Earl of Wiltshire; Edward Seymour had not been created Earl of Hertford till his sister Jane had given birth to Prince Edward. But the Parrs got their titles less than six months after Catherine's wedding.
Why?
The formal decision on the promotions and their timing was of course Henry's. Likewise, it was Catherine's mother, Maud Parr, who had laid
the ground-work by her shrewd matrimonial strategy for her children. But Catherine, it seems certain, played her part as well, since, more even than most sixteenth-century women, she displayed a fierce family pride. The badge she chose as Queen, of a maiden's head, was the Parr family badge. Her signature was also a tribute to her family. For, uniquely among Henry's Queens, she incorporated the initials of her maiden name, 'K[atherine] P[arr]', into her royal sign manual by always signing herself thus: 'CATHERINE THE QUEEN: KP'. Finally, there were those words in which she had informed her brother of her wedding. 'He was', she had told him back in July, 'the person who has most cause to rejoice [at her marriage].' Written by her, the words had the effect of a promise.
45
The events of December show that she had moved swiftly to fulfil it.
77. Queen Regent
T
he other main event of the 1543–4 Christmas season was the arrival and entertainment at Court of Fernando de Gonzaga, Duke of Ariano, Prince of Malfeta and Viceroy of Sicily. He came to agree to a timetable and strategy between Henry VIII and his master Charles V for a joint invasion of France. For Henry, having more or less weathered the storms of the Reformation, had resolved to return to his first love: war. Once more, as in 1513, he would invade France and see off Scotland. And, once more, as in those early years of his reign, he had at his side a Queen whom he trusted as his co-adjutor in power.
1
She was even called Catherine, after her namesake Catherine of Aragon.
* * *
That earlier Catherine had war with France in her blood; she was a daughter of Spain, and Henry would be fighting alongside her father, Ferdinand of Aragon (or at least he would be if Ferdinand could have been persuaded to fight). But for Catherine Parr, it would seem, the issue was more complex. And it was complicated, above all, by the question of religion. Charles V was the great hope for Catholicism in Europe and the Imperial alliance was the great hope also for religious conservatives in England. The alliance had been argued for strenuously by Gardiner, and its signature, in February 1543, had coincided with the triumph, likewise engineered by Gardiner, of orthodoxy and the apparent defeat of Reform in England.
But if Catherine experienced any doubts about the alliance between the English Moses and the Protector of the Roman Church, she showed no sign of it. Her already excellent relations with Mary, who was Charles's cousin as well as Henry's daughter, were a help. But Catherine, whether out of policy or conviction, also went out of her way to charm the succession of Imperial grandees who now came to England. The Viceroy left in early January but was succeeded by Manriquez de Lara, Duke of Najera, who arrived on 6 February on his way back to Spain. The Duke was denied an audience for several days – officially because the King had pressing business at Greenwich, but really, so he learned, because Henry wanted time to assemble a sufficently impressive Court to receive so distinguished a visitor.
2
The audience finally took place on Sunday, 17 February, when the Duke was '
assez bien recueilli
' ('well enough received') by the King. It sounds as though Henry was in a less expansive mood than usual. But any lack of warmth on the King's part was more than made up for by Catherine's behaviour. According to Chapuys, who escorted the Duke, the Queen was 'slightly indisposed'. Nevertheless, 'she would come out of her room to dance for the honour of the company'.
3
Chapuys's was an insider view. In contrast, the Duke's Secretary, who wrote his own account of his master's visit, knew nothing of the Queen's illness and saw only the splendid show she put on for her visitors. She first received the Duke in her Privy Chamber. She was accompanied by Mary, while the Duke was escorted by the Queen's brother, Essex. 'The Duke kissed the Queen's hand, by whom he was received in an animated manner.' There followed a more general entertainment for the Spanish party in the Queen's Presence Chamber. The Queen entered; sat on her throne and bade the Duke himself to sit. Then the royal band of violins, who had only arrived from Venice in 1540 and thus represented the latest fashion, struck up. The Queen had the first dance with her brother, 'very gracefully'. Next it was Mary's turn, followed by other ladies, until the entertainment culminated in a display by a professional dancer, who was also a Venetian. He danced 'so lightly', the Secretary noted, 'that he appeared to have wings on his feet'. 'Never did I witness such agility in any man', he added.
He was equally impressed by Queen Catherine. She 'has a lively and pleasing appearance', he wrote, 'and is praised as a virtuous woman'. She was certainly a magnificently dressed one, as he could see for himself.
She was dressed in a robe of cloth of gold, and a petticoat of brocade with sleeves lined with crimson satin, and trimmed with three-piled crimson velvet; her train was more than two yards long. Suspended from her neck were two crosses, and a jewel of very rich diamonds, and in her head-dress were many and beautiful ones. Her girdle was of gold, with very large pendants.
The description is instantly recognisable. For its principal features – the elaborate underskirt, the exaggerated width of the lower sleeves and the length of the girdle with its gorgeous tasselled ends – are all to be found in the costume worn by Catherine in the portrait which has been recently reidentified as hers.
4
* * *
In March, Najera was succeeded at the English Court by another Spanish grandee, the Duke of Alburquerque. According to the Imperial minister, Granvelle, the Duke was 'somewhat too full of ceremonies'. Despite this (or perhaps because of it), he hit it off well with Henry, who, perceiving his 'gravity, wisdom, knowledge and experience', requested his company in the forthcoming expedition to France and 'made him the best cheer in the world'. But, once again, Catherine went one better and gave the Duke 'an even greater [welcome]'.
The result was that the Duke became virtually a member of the extended royal family: he was lodged near the palace; encouraged to behave like one of Henry's own leading courtiers, and even invited to attend meetings of the Privy Council.
5
Meanwhile, preparations for the war proceeded rapidly. As in 1513, it was to be fought on three fronts: France, Scotland, and, not least, the home front.
This last would be Catherine's own responsibility and it is clear that Henry kept her informed in detail of the arrangements as they evolved. In early June, for instance, she wrote to Anne Seymour
née
Stanhope, the Countess of Hertford, about her husband Edward's movements. Hertford had been sent north to harry the Scots, and it is clear that his wife feared that he would be ordered to remain there. Catherine was able to reassure her. 'Madam', she wrote, 'my Lord your husband's coming hither is not altered, for he shall come home before the King's Majesty take his journey overseas.' She knew this, she added, 'as it pleasith his Majesty to declare it me of late'.
6
This was Catherine's first involvement in Scottish affairs, which were to absorb so much of her time and energy in the coming months. For Hertford's return was the result of yet another shift in the bloody kaleidescope of Scottish politics.
The country had been plunged into chaos once more following the shattering English victory at Solway Moss on 23 November 1542. But, unlike his father James IV, King James V had not been killed gloriously, fighting in the field at the head of his troops. Instead he died, of grief as it was said, two weeks later. It may equally have been of exhaustion, since he had fathered at least seven bastard sons in an adventurous amorous career. But his sole surviving legitimate issue by his wife, Queen Marie of Lorraine, was a week-old daughter, Mary, who was proclaimed Queen of Scots.
7