Finally, despite their professed contempt for religious 'ceremonies', the injunctions proceeded to impose with unparalleled severity the traditional restrictions of monastic life: 'enclosure' (that is, the requirement to remain within the monastery), the exclusion of women, and simplicity of food, drink, dress and manner of life. Most problematic was enclosure. This was covered by the Injunction which required 'that no monk or [lay] brother . . . by any means go forth of the precincts of the same'. If enclosure were literally enforced, the economic infrastructure of monastic life would collapse. Rents could not be collected nor produce sold, and bankruptcy or starvation would quickly overwhelm the community.
9
This Injunction, like the rest, was probably formulated in reasonably good faith. (Henry was always very keen that other people should observe their obligations.) But its potential to harm monastic life was soon spotted – and exploited.
* * *
Cromwell briefed his agents, known as visitors, at Winchcombe, and they sallied forth in different directions. Their subsequent reports concentrated on two areas: the sexual failings of the monks, on which subject (like today's Sunday-newspaper reporters) the visitors managed to combine intense disapproval with lip-smacking detail, and the false miracles and relics, of which they gave equally gloating accounts. One monastery, however, was spared the usual run of visitors, only to be subject to a more high-powered inquisition. This was Hailes, which lay a mere two miles to the north-east of Winchcombe.
Hailes owned a relic of the Holy Blood of Christ. This was not the mystic blood – the wine that was made blood by consecration in the mass – but, supposedly, the Saviour's actual blood which had been shed on Mount Calvary. It had even preserved a certain viscosity and the mere sight of it, so the faithful believed, would put them in a state of Grace. The presence of this relic had turned Hailes Abbey into one of the great pilgrimage centres of late medieval England. Now, it attracted Anne's disapproving attention. According to William Latymer's account, she, 'being in progress at Winchcombe', sent 'certain of her chaplains and others [to Hailes] . . . truly and faithfully to view, search and examine by all possible means the truth [of the relic]'. Their verdict was damning: partly by testing the relic and partly by questioning its custodians, they discovered it to be 'nothing else but the blood of some duck, or, as some say, red wax'.
10
Latymer goes on to claim that Anne got Henry to order the immediate destruction of this irreligious fraud. This portion of his narrative, however, is mistaken since the relic survived until 1538, when it was formally investigated by Hugh Latimer and Richard Tracy, acting in their then capacity as royal commissioners. Following their discovery that, when removed from its outer casing, it was not blood at all but a yellowish, gum-like substance, it was sent up to London for public exposure and destruction.
Latimer, almost certainly, had been a member of the earlier investigation team sent by Anne; so too, probably, was John Hilsey, who delivered the sermon on the occasion of the relic's final exposure at St Paul's Cross, the great outdoor London pulpit, in November 1538. In 1535, Hilsey had been Prior of the Black Friars in Bristol and rising rapidly at Court. With his local knowledge, he had been the likely source of the story, accepted by Anne's investigators, that the relic was duck's blood. Certainly, he repeated this description in another sermon preached in February 1538. In the November sermon, however, he made a retraction of this earlier assertion and instead, drawing on the commissioner's recent report, showed the relic to be 'honey coloured with saffron and lying like a gum'. He then offered it up for general inspection!
11
* * *
After Sudeley, the 1535 Progress went to Tewkesbury and then, following the course of the Severn Valley, it continued to Gloucester, Berkeley Castle and Thornbury Castle – that magnificent monument to the ambitions of the Duke of Buckingham, which had been left half-finished at his fall. The next scheduled stop was Bristol, which was the goal of the whole Progress. But now there came bad news. Plague had struck in Bristol and it was unsafe for Henry and Anne to enter the town. Instead, the town fathers came to Thornbury to pay their homage there. They presented Henry with gifts of livestock, to feed his itinerant Household, while to Anne they gave a parcel-gilt cup and cover filled with 100 marks (£66 13s 4d) in cash. The Queen replied prettily that she desired 'to demand or have none other gift' but only that she should be able to return to Bristol in the future.
12
The intended route now took the King and Queen to Nicholas Poyntz's house at Iron Acton. Poyntz had made lavish preparations to receive his sovereigns. Building very quickly, to judge from the nonexistent foundations, he added a brand-new wing to his existing manorhouse. On the first floor was a suite of three fine rooms, each over seventeen feet high, that replicated the King's or Queen's apartment in one of their own palaces. As in a royal palace, the rooms were arranged in an enfilade (that is to say, each opened directly into the other) and they were decorated in the latest style with tapestry, stucco and high-quality wall-paintings with roundels, grotesque work and other classical architectural features. Poyntz also provided all mod-cons and each room had a large fireplace and, next to it, a garderobe or lavatory, opening into the moat. Additionally, since feasting was a feature of entertaining royalty, he bought the latest table-ware, including blue-and-white tin-glazed earthenware and hugely expensive Venetian glass.
But, after all that, it is impossible to be sure whether the planned visit took place. Perhaps it was a victim of the delayed start to the Progress, and Poyntz was left alone in his expensive new buildings to gnash his teeth in disappointment. But there are several indications to the contrary. Poyntz was knighted, almost certainly that year and in reward for his hospitality, and was drawn by Holbein wearing his new chain of knighthood and striking a Frenchified pose that accords well with the avant-garde style of his building works. Excavations of the moat have also come up with many broken fragments of his new earthenware and Venetian glass, suggesting that his royal guests had dined well, if not wisely.
13
In any case, Anne would have found herself supremely at home at Iron Acton. The layout of the rooms was familiar. The combination of advanced, Frenchified taste with religious radicalism reflected perfectly the ethos of her own Court. Finally, there was the added satisfaction of knowing that Nicholas Poyntz was a convert: his grandfather, Sir Robert, had been Catherine's Vice-chamberlain; now the grandson was dancing attendance on her.
14
But Anne would have been even more satisfied still if she had been able to read a despatch written by Chapuys on 10 August. For the Progress, he reported gloomily, was achieving its aim of 'gaining the people'. 'It is said', he continued, 'that many of the peasants where [Henry] has passed, hearing the preachers who follow the Court, are so much abused as to believe that God has inspired the King to separate himself from the wife of his brother.'
15
Since, until his departure on urgent personal business, the Court preachers included Latimer, the result is scarcely surprising. Nor was it only the country folk, the 'bumpkins' (
idiotes
) as Chapuys contemptuously describes them, who were won over. Of a quite different calibre was Mr Scrope, 'a very worshipful gentleman'. Scrope had failed to swear the Oath of Obedience, not out of malice but only because of the slackness of the commissioners who were responsible for the imposition of the Oath. But, overwhelmed by Latimer's preaching, he confessed his sin to him and was sent back to Court as Latimer's 'prisoner', burning to serve Cromwell and the new regime. 'Perchance he can tell you of more as far behindhand as he', Latimer wrote to Cromwell, 'only for lack of calling-on hitherto slow.'
16
* * *
Now, more than ever, Anne was in her element. She next stayed at Little Sodbury, which belonged to Poyntz's aunt and uncle, and after that at Bromham, the seat of her Vice-chamberlain Baynton. Baynton, as we have seen, was Latimer's patron, while the Walshes at Little Sodbury had given refuge to Tyndale in the awkward days before he had fled abroad to escape Wolsey's persecutions. Now, suddenly, Tyndale's name moved to the top of the agenda again.
After going into exile, Tyndale's main undertaking had been the translation of the Bible into English. He had completed his first version of the New Testament in 1526 and he was making good progress with the Old. He had also written important controversial works. One of these, the
Obedience of a Christian Man
, had been brought to Anne's attention by one of her maids and she in turn had shown it to Henry. Her motives were a characteristic mixture: she did so partly because she approved of the work and partly to spite and thwart Wolsey. Henry, for his part, was mightily impressed with the thrust of Tyndale's argument, which deduced from Scripture that the Christian had an absolute duty of obedience to the King, not to the Pope. 'This book is for me and all Kings to read,' he is supposed to have said.
But then Tyndale made the error – a fatal one as it turned out – of writing on the wrong side of the Great Matter. His
Practice of Prelates
spoke approvingly of Catherine; rubbished the King's vaunted Scriptural arguments; and presented him as being led by the nose by Wolsey to seek the Divorce. Henry was enraged and made serious, if unsuccessful, attempts to secure Tyndale's extradition.
Nevertheless, Anne, Cromwell and their friends continued, though discreetly, to try to bring about a reconciliation. Under their influence, Henry had announced a determination to make the Scriptures available to his people in an English translation. And Tyndale was incomparably the best translator. Anne had a fine copy of the revised 1534 edition of his New Testament, inscribed 'Anne the Queen' on the gilt fore-edge. And Cromwell's correspondents, including Stephen Vaughan, were busy trying to keep channels open.
17
The gap proved unbridgeable, however. Then fate struck, in the form of an English double-agent and agent-provocateur called Henry Philips. Having got Tyndale's confidence and that of his host, the English merchant Thomas Poyntz, who came from the Essex branch of the family, Philips betrayed Tyndale to the Flemish authorities and he was arrested on 21 May 1535. The Council of the Emperor Charles V's sister Mary, who had succeeded his aunt Margaret as Regent of the Netherlands, had hitherto turned a blind eye to Tyndale. The Council had enough to do, dealing with native heresy, without bothering about an Englishman who kept himself to himself and wrote and published only in a foreign tongue.
18
But Philips had energy, contacts and, somehow, money and he continued to press the case against Tyndale. 'I cannot perceive', wrote Thomas Theobald to Cranmer, 'by what [Philips] says, but that Tyndale shall die.' 'Which', Theobald continued, 'he procures with all diligent endeavour, rejoicing much thereat.' It has been speculated that the source of Theobald's money was the recently executed Sir Thomas More. In life, More had maintained a long and savage war of words with Tyndale, whom he regarded as an abominable heretic, fit only for the flames. Now, if the guess about Theobald's funding be correct, More was having his revenge from beyond the grave.
19
Cromwell and Anne were in a quandary. They wished to intervene on Tyndale's behalf. But was it politic to do so? Finally Cromwell screwed up courage to speak to Henry. 'To know the King's pleasure touching Tyndale, and whether I shall write or not', he noted in his 'Remembrances' or memoranda for early August. The resulting conversation probably took place at Thornbury, shortly before 16 August. Anne, then riding high, probably lent her voice as well and Henry's consent was obtained. The necessary letters were written and forwarded to Stephen Vaughan in London. He received them on 4 September and sent them on promptly. And they reached their destination equally promptly.
20
But the recipients on the Flemish Council were politely dismissive. 'It were good', Vaughan wrote to Cromwell, 'that the King had a man of reputation in Flanders.' That, however, was easier said than done. The Great Matter had led to an almost complete political breach between England and the Netherlands: trade – vital to both parties – continued, but that was all. In the circumstances, Philips, despite Thomas Poyntz's increasingly desperate appeals to England, had the field to himself. He also procured the arrest of Poyntz, who escaped back to England only with difficulty. 'If now you send but your letter to the [Flemish] Privy Council', Vaughan wrote to Cromwell from Antwerp on 13 April 1536, 'I could deliver Tyndale from the fire, so it came by time, for else it will be too late.'
21
This letter was never sent. Anne, by then, was too worried about trying to save her own head. And Cromwell, from being her friend and ally, had become her deadliest enemy.
While the English Reformers feuded, Tyndale burned.
* * *
But during the Progress of 1535 the alliance between Queen and minister seemed closer than ever. It showed clearly in their co-operation in the rush of appointments to bishoprics, as four sees (or one fifth of the total) were filled in quick succession.
The vacancies had arisen for a variety of reasons. Rochester was freed by Fisher's conviction and execution, and Hereford by Charles Booth's death from natural causes in May 1535. At the same time, Parliament passed an Act seizing the English sees held by Henry's Italian agents at the Papal Court. This created vacancies at Salisbury, where Campeggio had been Bishop, and at Worcester, which Wolsey had procured for his friend Ghinucci. And in place of a fervent, upright Catholic, such as Fisher, and supple, time-serving ones, such as Campeggio and Ghinucci, it was decided to appoint thorough-going Reformers.
22