‘I see. And he passed any useful information on to Lord Cromwell. He was, in a word, a spy.’
‘Let us say, rather, that he was a trained observer. He certainly gathered much useful information. He discovered what Lord Cromwell’s enemies were planning. Unfortunately, he was too late in conveying this intelligence to his lordship.’
‘Even so? Then I begin to see why Your Grace is concerned for his safety. You fear that this “spy”, or whatever you wish to call him, has been unmasked by people intent on taking their revenge.’
‘No, we are not dealing with petty-minded men whose eyes are fixed on the past. Those who wish to silence our mutual friend are very much concerned with the future. You see, Master Treviot, the struggle – or, rather, let us call it the war, for in very truth that is what it is – the war continues. Many men – powerful in the Church and in the royal court – will stop at nothing to extinguish the light of the Gospel and return us all to popish darkness.’
‘Surely, Your Grace,’ I protested, ‘things are quieting down now. For the last couple of years there have been fewer public protests by partisans of different religious camps, fewer angry sermons denouncing “papists” and “heretics”. Most people want nothing but to be allowed to get on with their lives in peace.’
‘What most people want, Master Treviot, is of little consequence. Decisions are made by King Henry. Therefore, the only people who matter are those who influence the king. Now, his majesty – whom God long preserve – is a sick man. For those of us who knew him in his prime it is sad to see him as he is now. Just to move from one room to another he needs to be supported by two strong servants. As to stairs … well, I need not go into details. The important point is that he sees fewer people now and relies increasingly on the members of his Privy Chamber and a handful of others – like myself – whom he trusts. That is where the war is being fought now – in the king’s inner circle. Those who wish to suppress the truth know they must remove us – just as they removed Lord Cromwell.’
‘Who are these men and how are they working against Your Grace?’
‘That is precisely what I, aided by such as Master Holbein, intend to discover. Our friend continues to work for me. That is why his life is in danger.’
I was at a loss to know where this conversation was headed. I said, ‘Thank you for explaining this, Your Grace. You may be sure I will redouble my prayers for his majesty and for yourself. I wish it was in my power to do more.’
‘It is, Master Treviot. It is.’ Cranmer unfolded the sheet of paper. ‘Lord Cromwell’s list has been very helpful to me. His assessment of potential agents is incisive. He was a fine judge of character. This is how he describes one young man: “He is tenacious, intelligent but not quick-witted, transparently honest and, above all, fiercely loyal”.’ The archbishop stared at me intently. ‘That is the kind of man I need now. The kind his majesty needs. The kind England needs.’
Chapter 5
I was without words. Almost without breath, as though I had been punched in the stomach. When I did find my voice I could only mutter and mumble. What I tried to impress upon the archbishop was that, while I had briefly been employed on confidential business for Lord Cromwell, that had been several years before. I protested that I had no training as a spy. ‘And to be honest, Your Grace, I have no taste for it,’ I said.
‘Then we are alike in that, you and I,’ Cranmer replied. ‘I am a simple scholar at heart and frequently wish I had remained so. It was his majesty who summoned me out of the university and set me to the game of intrigue. I had no option but to learn its devious rules and follow them as best I could. It is easier to be a Spectator but the game must be played and sometimes reluctant participants have to give up the luxury of merely looking on. Believe me, Master Treviot, there are things that need doing and only you can do them.’
‘Your Grace, I beg you to excuse me. I am not the man for-’
‘You are if I say you are!’ For the first time this gentle-spoken cleric raised his voice. Then, as suddenly, his tone returned to its usual volume. ‘You have yet to hear what I require of you. As I explained, the future of our godly commonwealth rests, in large measure, with his majesty’s more trusted companions.’
‘I’m sure he leans heavily on Your Grace’s advice.’
‘I thank God that he does.’ Cranmer paused. Then, watching closely for my reaction, he said, ‘There was a time when his majesty leaned heavily on Lord Cromwell’s advice.’
‘And you think …’
‘I do not think, Master Treviot. I know. I am the major obstacle in the enemy’s path. The only way I can be removed is by convincing his majesty that I am a heretic – as they did with Cromwell. That is why I need to be kept informed of their plans – by faithful friends like Master Holbein and yourself.’
‘But I do not move in court circles,’ I protested.
‘No, but you are a leading member of society here in Kent.’
‘Yes, but …’
Cranmer ignored the interruption. ‘The conspiracy against me is like ripples on a pond. It spreads out from the centre to lap against the distant banks.’
At that moment there was a tap at the door and the obsequious little priest appeared again. He coughed apologetically.
‘Time for mass already, Martin?’ Cranmer stood up. ‘Master Treviot, it seems we must continue our discussion later. Martin take our guest to the chapel. Have a chamber prepared for him. He will be staying tonight. Master Treviot, be so good as to return here after supper.’
Once again the priest preluded his words with a discreet cough. ‘Your Grace has letters which Your Grace might consider urgent – including two from his majesty.’
Cranmer sighed deeply. ‘You see why I yearn for the scholar’s life, Master Treviot. Very well, Martin, I will dictate letters after supper. In the morning I wish to be left alone with our guest directly after early mass. Nothing is to disturb us. Do you understand – nothing.’
I took my leave of the archbishop and accompanied my guide to the chapel. It was laid out collegiate-style – stalls facing each other, north and south, across a narrow chancel. The choir and clergy occupied the seats closest to the altar. As I took my place, my mind was still on the unfinished conversation. At least I would not be distracted by the worship. As a mere layman I would only be expected to observe the clergy performing their ritual, aided by the singing men and boys of the archbishop’s fine choir. Or so I thought. I was, therefore, surprised to be handed a card on which parts of the mass were printed – in English – and to discover that the whole congregation was expected to recite them with the priests. If this was an example of the kind of innovation Cranmer wanted to introduce in the Church as a whole, I could see why those wedded to the old ways might consider such novelties heretical. I noticed that even here, in his grace’s own domain, not a few clergy and lay people kept their mouths tight shut during the recitation of the English passages.
Afterwards, at supper in the great hall, I sat at one of the long tables among members of the household. Some were curious to know my business with the archbishop but, remembering Cranmer’s admonition and my own vow, I returned only vague answers. I was aware of – or thought I could detect – an atmosphere of divided loyalties or fractured trust. I told myself at the time that I imagined it; that the fragments of backstairs gossip and differences over domestic trivia were no more than one might encounter in the entourage of any great lord, whether spiritual or temporal. Yet it was difficult wholly to avoid the impression that cautious glances were being exchanged across the board and tongues carefully guarded.