Lamentation

‘You are right,’ I lied. ‘I am concerned with Anne Askew’s book. But I was misinformed about who gave it to Greening.’ I continued calmly, ‘You have told me much, Thomas. Best tell me the rest now. I swear to you, I am no enemy.’

He looked at me again, then bent his head. ‘It seems I have no choice.’

I did not reply.

He took a deep breath, then he recounted the next part of his story in quiet, even tones, without looking up at me; his voice trembling occasionally so that I had to bend to catch his words.

Chapter Twenty-five

‘It was on the twenty-ninth of June, a Tuesday. Three weeks ago, though it seems a year. Anne Askew and those three men had been condemned to death for heresy at the Guildhall the day before. Everyone was talking of it. We expected she would lie in Newgate prison with the others till she was taken to be burned. That afternoon I was on duty in the Tower, checking on the prisoners in the dungeons and giving food to those allowed it. Afterwards I went to report on how they fared to Master Howitson — you met him yesterday.’

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘While I was with him at the desk I heard footsteps outside, several people coming down. The outer door opened and Master Ardengast, the senior guard, entered, accompanied by a couple of guards holding a young woman. She wore a blue dress of good quality, but to my astonishment she had a dirty sack over her head, so her face could not be seen. She was breathing hard, poor creature, very frightened. It was dreadful to see a woman treated so. Another couple of men followed, carrying a large trunk. Then Master Ardengast told Howitson and me this woman was to be lodged down here, and none of the other prisoners were to know of her presence. He said as we were on duty we must perform a double shift, for the fact she was here was to be known to as few as possible.’

Myldmore’s voice fell to little more than a whisper. ‘You would think one would protest at such a thing, but you get used to the worst in that place. And I am a weak, sinful creature. I only answered, “Yes, sir.” The woman was led away, to a cell within, a place called the “special cell”, better appointed than the others, for prisoners of gentle birth. But it is near the room where the rack and the other instruments of torture are kept.’ He looked up at me. ‘I have seen them.’

So have I, I thought, but did not say.

‘After that, all the men left, leaving Howitson and me staring at each other. I began to ask who the woman was, but Howitson said we should not talk about it. So I went about my duties. Then, a couple of hours later, Master Ardengast returned. With him were the Lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Anthony Knevet, and two other men, in fine silk gowns with gold chains of office and jewelled caps. One I did not know, he was thin with a ruddy face and a little jutting red beard. The other I recognized, for I have seen him on business in the Tower before. The King’s councillor, Sir Richard Rich.’

I stared at him hard. Rich, and by his description the other man was Lord Chancellor Wriothesley, who at the burning had been worried lest the gunpowder round the victims’ necks send burning faggots flying at the councillors. And Knevet, who was in bad odour with his superior Walsingham. So, Richard Rich was deep in this business, as I had suspected.

Myldmore looked back at me now, his eyes frightened. ‘Should I go on now, sir?’

I think he feared that at the mention of those names I might call on him to desist, and decide to get involved no further. But I said, ‘No, continue.’

‘They said nothing to me or Howitson, though Rich frowned when he saw that I recognized him. They passed on, through the door to where the woman was kept.’

‘You still had no idea who she was?’

‘No.’ There was anger in his voice suddenly. ‘But I knew Mistress Askew had been condemned, and that the law forbids torturing someone after sentence.’

‘Yes, it does.’

Myldmore passed a hand over his brow. ‘It was three hours before they all came out again. Rich and Wriothesley looked angry, and Rich had a sheen of sweat on his face, as though he had been at some hard labour. Sir Anthony Knevet looked worried. I remember Rich flexed his hands, little white hands they are, and winced as though he were in pain. They paused at the desk and Sir Anthony spoke to us roughly. “You two never saw these gentlemen, you understand? Remember your oath to the King.” Then they all went out, back up the stairs. I heard Rich say angrily, “Another hour, Knevet, and I would have broken her yet.”’

He paused. Outside in the quadrangle two barristers were talking, probably of some amusing incident in court, for both were laughing. Sunlight illuminated Myldmore’s head, which he bent again as he continued. ‘That evening it was again my duty to feed the prisoners. Howitson told me to take a bowl of pottage to the woman. So I went through to her cell. I knocked lest she was in a state of undress, and a voice bade me come in.