CHAPTER IV
A COMMISSION
Within a few days of Christopher's departure to Lewes, Ralph also leftOverfield and went back to London.
He was always a little intolerant at home, and generally appeared thereat his worst--caustic, silent, and unsympathetic. It seemed to him thatthe simple country life was unbearably insipid; he found there neitherwit nor affairs: to see day after day the same faces, to listen to thesame talk either on country subjects that were distasteful to him, or,out of compliment to himself, political subjects that were unfamiliar tothe conversationalists, was a very hard burden, and he counted suchthings as the price he must pay for his occasional duty visits to hisparents. He could not help respecting the piety of his father, but hewas none the less bored by it; and the atmosphere of silent cynicismthat seemed to hang round his mother was his only relief. He thought heunderstood her, and it pleased him sometimes to watch her, to calculatehow she would behave in any little domestic crisis or incident thataffected her, to notice the slight movement of her lips and her eyelidsgently lowering and rising again in movements of extreme annoyance. Buteven this was not sufficient compensation for the other drawbacks oflife at Overfield Court, and it was with a very considerable relief thathe stepped into his carriage at last towards the end of July, nodded andsmiled once more to his father who was watching him from the terracesteps with a wistful and puzzled face, anxious to please, and heard thefirst crack of the whip of his return journey.
He had, indeed, a certain excuse for going, for a despatch-rider hadcome down from London with papers for him from Sir Thomas Cromwell, andit was not hard to assume a serious face and announce that he wasrecalled by affairs; and there was sufficient truth in it, too, for oneof the memoranda bore on the case of Elizabeth Barton, the holy maid ofKent, and announced her apprehension. Cromwell however, did not actuallyrecall him, but mentioned the fact of her arrest, and asked if he hadheard much said of her in the country, and what the opinion of her wasin that district.
* * * * *
The drive up to London seemed very short to him now; he went slowlythrough the bundle of papers on which he had to report, annotating themin order here and there, and staring out of the window now and againwith unseeing eyes. There were a dozen cases on which he was engaged,which had been forwarded to him during his absence in the country--thepriest at High Hatch was reported to have taken a wife, and Cromwelldesired information about this; Ralph had ridden out there one day andgossipped a little outside the parsonage; an inn-keeper a few miles tothe north of Cuckfield had talked against the divorce and the reigningConsort; a mistake had been made in the matter of a preaching license,and Cranmer had desired Cromwell to look into it; a house had been soldin Cheapside on which Ralph had been told to keep a suspicious eye, andhe was asked his opinion on the matter; and such things as theseoccupied his time fully, until towards four o'clock in the afternoon hiscarriage rolled up to the horse-ferry at Lambeth, and he thrust thepapers back into his bag before stepping out.
On arriving at his own little house in Westminster, the rent of whichwas paid by his master, he left his other servants to carry up theluggage, and set out himself again immediately with Morris in a hackneycarriage for Chancery Lane.
As he went, he found himself for the hundredth time thinking of thehistory of the man to whom he was going.
Sir Thomas Cromwell was beginning to rise rapidly from a life ofadventure and obscurity abroad. He had passed straight from theCardinal's service to the King's three years before, and had since thenbeen knighted, appointed privy-councillor, Master of the Jewel-house,and Clerk of the Hanaper in the Court of Chancery. At the same time hewas actively engaged on his amazing system of espionage through which hewas able to detect disaffection in all parts of the country, and therebyrender himself invaluable to the King, who, like all the Tudors, whileperfectly fearless in the face of open danger was pitiably terrified ofsecret schemes.
And it was to this man that he was confidential agent! Was there anylimit to the possibilities of his future?
Ralph found a carriage drawn up at the door and, on enquiry, heard thathis master was on the point of leaving; and even as he hesitated in theentrance, Cromwell shambled down the stairs with a few papers in hishand, his long sleeveless cloak flapping on each step behind him, andhis felt plumed cap on his head in which shone a yellow jewel.
His large dull face, clean shaven like a priest's, lighted up briskly ashe saw Ralph standing there, and he thrust his arm pleasantly throughhis agent's.
"Come home to supper," he said, and the two wheeled round and went outand into the carriage. Mr. Morris handed the bag through the window tohis master, and stood bare-headed as the carriage moved off over thenewly laid road.
It would have been a very surprising sight to Sir James Torridon to seehis impassive son's attitude towards Cromwell. He was deferential, eagerto please, nervous of rebuke, and almost servile, for he had found hishero in that tremendous personality. He pulled out his papers now, shookthem out briskly, and was soon explaining, marking and erasing. Cromwellleaned back in his corner and listened, putting in a word of comment nowand again, or dotting down a note on the back of a letter, and watchingRalph with a pleasant, oblique look, for he liked to see his peoplealert and busy. But he knew very well what his demeanour was like atother times, and had at first indeed been drawn to the young man by hissurprising insolence of manner and impressive observant silences.
"That is very well, Mr. Torridon," he said. "I will see to the license.Put them all away."
Ralph obeyed, and then sat back too, silent indeed, but with a kind ofside-long readiness for the next subject; but Cromwell spoke no more ofbusiness for the present, only uttering short sentences about currentaffairs, and telling his friend the news.
"Frith has been burned," he said. "Perhaps you knew it. He was obstinateto the end, my Lord Bishop reported. He threw Saint Chrysostom and SaintAugustine back into their teeth. He gave great occasion to the funnyfellows. There was one who said that since Frith would have nopurgatory, he was sent there by my Lord to find out for himself whetherthere be such a place or not. There was a word more about his manner ofgoing there, 'Frith frieth,' but 'twas not good. Those funny fellowsover-reach themselves. Hewet went with him to Smithfield and hell."
Ralph smiled, and asked how they took it.
"Oh, very well. A priest bade the folk pray no more for Frith than for adog, but Frith smiled on him and begged the Lord to forgive him hisunkind words."
He was going on to tell him a little more about the talk of the Court,when the carriage drove up to the house in Throgmorton Street, nearAustin Friars, which Cromwell had lately built for himself.
"My wife and children are at Hackney," he said as he stepped out. "Weshall sup alone."
It was a great house, built out of an older one, superbly furnished withItalian things, and had a large garden at the back on to which lookedthe windows of the hall. Supper was brought up almost immediately--acouple of woodcocks and a salad--and the two sat down, with a pair ofservants in blue and silver to wait on them. Cromwell spoke no more wordof business until the bottle of wine had been set on the table, and theservants were gone. And then he began again, immediately.
"And what of the country?" he said. "What do they say there?" He took apeach from the carved roundel in the centre of the table, and seemedabsorbed in its contemplation.
Ralph had had some scruples at first about reporting privateconversations, but Cromwell had quieted them long since, chiefly by theforce of his personality, and partly by the argument that a man's dutyto the State over-rode his duty to his friends, and that since only talkthat was treasonable would be punished, it was simpler to report allconversations in general that had any suspicious bearing, and that hehimself was most competent to judge whether or no they should befollowed up. Ralph, too, had become completely reassured by now that noinjury would be done to his own status among his friends, since hismaster had never yet made dire
ct use of any of his information in such amanner as that it was necessary for Ralph to appear as a public witness.And again, too, he had pointed out that the work had to be done, andthat was better for the cause of justice and mercy that it should bedone by conscientious rather than by unscrupulous persons.
He talked to him now very freely about the conversations in his father'shouse, knowing that Cromwell did not want more than a general specimensketch of public feeling in matters at issue.
"They have great faith in the Maid of Kent, sir," he said. "Mybrother-in-law, Nicholas, spoke of her prophecy of his Grace's death. Itis the devout that believe in her; the ungodly know her for a fool or aknave."
"_Filii hujus saeculi prudentiores sunt_,"--quoted Cromwell gravely."Your brother-in-law, I should think, was a child of light."
"He is, sir."
"I should have thought so. And what else did you hear?"
"There is a good deal of memory of the Lady Katharine, sir. I heard theforesters talking one day."
"What of the Religious houses?"
Ralph hesitated.
"My brother Christopher has just gone to Lewes," he said. "So I heardmore of the favourable side, but I heard a good deal against them, too.There was a secular priest talking against them one day, with ourchaplain, who is a defender of them."
"Who was he?" asked Cromwell, with the same sharp, oblique glance.
"A man of no importance, sir; the parson of Great Keynes."
"The Holy Maid is in trouble," went on the other after a minute'ssilence. "She is in my Lord of Canterbury's hands, and we can leave herthere. I suppose she will be hanged."
Ralph waited. He knew it was no good asking too much.
"What she said of the King's death and the pestilence is enough to casther," went on Cromwell presently. "And Bocking and Hadleigh will be inhis hands soon, too. They do not know their peril yet."
They went on to talk of the friars, and of the disfavour that they werein with the King after the unfortunate occurrences of the previousspring, when Father Peto had preached at Greenwich before Henry on thesubject of Naboth's vineyard and the end of Ahab the oppressor. Therehad been a dramatic scene, Cromwell said, when on the following Sunday acanon of Hereford, Dr. Curwin, had preached against Peto from the samepulpit, and had been rebuked from the rood-loft by another of thebrethren, Father Elstow, who had continued declaiming until the Kinghimself had fiercely intervened from the royal pew and bade him besilent.
"The two are banished," said Cromwell, "but that is not the end of it.Their brethren will hear of it again. I have never seen the King sowrathful. I suppose it was partly because the Lady Katharine socossetted them. She was always in the church at the night-office whenthe Court was at Greenwich, and Friar Forrest, you know, was herconfessor. There is a rod in pickle."
Ralph listened with all his ears. Cromwell was not very communicativeon the subject of the Religious houses, but Ralph had gathered fromhints of this kind that something was preparing.
When supper was over and the servants were clearing away, Cromwell wentto the window where the glass glowed overhead with his new arms andscrolls--a blue coat with Cornish choughs and a rose on a fess betweenthree rampant lions--and stood there, a steady formidable figure, withhis cropped head and great jowl, looking out on to the garden.
When the men had gone he turned again to Ralph.
"I have something for you," he said, "but it is greater than those othermatters--a fool could not do it. Sit down."
He came across the room to the fireplace, as Ralph sat down, and himselftook a chair by the table, lifting the baudkin cushion and settling itagain comfortably behind him.
"It is this," he said abruptly. "You know that Master More has been introuble. There was the matter of the gilt flagon which Powell said hehad taken as a bribe, and the gloves lined with forty pound. Well, hedisproved that, and I am glad of it, glad of it," he repeated steadily,looking down at his ring and turning it to catch the light. "But thereis now another matter--I hear he has been practising with the Holy Maidand hearkening to her ravings, and that my Lord of Rochester is in ittoo. But I am not sure of it."
Cromwell stopped, glanced up at Ralph a moment, and then down again.
"I am not sure of it," he said again, "and I wish to be. And I think youcan help me."
Ralph waited patiently, his heart beginning to quicken. This was a greatmatter.
"I wish you to go to him," said his master, "and to get him into talk.But I do not see how it can be managed."
"He knows I am in your service, sir," suggested Ralph.
"Yes, yes," said Cromwell a little impatiently, "that is it. He is nofool, and will not talk. This is what I thought of. That you should goto him from me, and feign that you are on his side in the matter. Butwill he believe that?" he ended gloomily, looking at the othercuriously.
There was silence for a minute, while Cromwell drummed his fingerssoftly on the table. Then presently Ralph spoke.
"There is this, sir," he said. "I might speak to him about my brotherChris who, as I told you, has gone to Lewes at the Maid's advice, andthen see what Master More has to say."
Cromwell still looked at him.
"Yes," he said, "that seems reasonable. And for the rest--well, I willleave that in your hands."
They talked a few minutes longer about Sir Thomas More, and Cromwelltold the other what a quiet life the ex-Chancellor had led since hisresignation of office, of his house at Chelsea, and the like, and of thedecision that he had apparently come to not to mix any further in publicaffairs.
"There is thunder in the air," he said, "as you know very well, andMaster More is no mean weather-prophet. He mis-liked the matter of theLady Katharine, and Queen Anne is no friend of his. I think he is wiseto be quiet."
Ralph knew perfectly well that this tolerant language did not representCromwell's true attitude towards the man of whom they were speaking, buthe assented to all that was said, and added a word or two about SirThomas More's learning, and of the pleasant manner in which he himselfhad been received when he had once had had occasion to see him before.
"He was throwing Horace at me," said the other, with a touch ofbitterness, "the last time that I was there. I do not know which heloves best, that or his prayers."
Again Ralph recognised an animus. Cromwell had suffered somewhat fromlack of a classical education.
"But it is a good thing to love the classics and devotion," he went onpresently with a sententious air, "they are solaces in time of trouble.I have found that myself."
He glanced up at the other and down again.
"I was caught saying our Lady matins one day," he said, "when theCardinal was in trouble. I remember I was very devout that morning."
He went on to talk of Wolsey and of his relations with him, and Ralphwatched that heavy smooth face become reminiscent and almostsentimental.
"If he had but been wiser;" he said. "I have noticed again and again thefolly of wise men. There is always clay mixed with gold. I supposenothing but the fire that Fryth denied can purge it out; and my lord'swas ambition."
He wagged his head in solemn reprobation, and Ralph did not know whetherto laugh or to look grave. Then there fell a long silence, and Cromwellagain fell to fingering his signet-ring, taking it off his thumb androlling it on the smooth oak, and at last stood up with a brisker air.
"Well," he said, "I have a thousand affairs, and my son Gregory iscoming here soon. Then you will see about that matter. Remember I wishto know what Master More thinks of her, that--that I may know what tothink."
* * * * *
Ralph understood sufficiently clearly, as he walked home in the eveninglight, what it was that his master wanted. It was no less than to catchsome handle against the ex-chancellor, though he had carefully abstainedfrom saying so. Ralph recognised the adroitness, and saw that while thedirections had been plain and easy to understand, yet that not one wordhad been spoken that could by any means be used as a handle againstCr
omwell. If anyone in England at that time knew how to wield speech itwas his master; it was by that weapon that he had prevailed with theKing, and still kept him in check; it was that weapon rashly used by hisenemies that he was continually turning against them, and under histutoring Ralph himself had begun to be practised in the same art.
Among other causes, too, of his admiration for Cromwell, was thelatter's extraordinary business capacity. There was hardly an affair ofany importance in which he did not have a finger at least, and most ofthem he held in the palm of his hand, and that, not only in the mass butin their minutest details. Ralph had marvelled more than once at theminuti? that he had seen dotted down on the backs of old letters lyingon his master's table. Matters of Church and State, inextricablyconfused to other eyes, was simple to this man; he understoodintuitively where the key of each situation lay, and dealt with them oneafter another briefly and effectively. And yet with all this no man worean appearance of greater leisure; he would gossip harmlessly for anhour, and yet by the end had said all that he wished to say, andgenerally learnt, too, from his companion whoever he might be, all hewished to learn. Ralph had watched him more than once at this business;had seen delicate subjects introduced in a deft unsuspicious sentencethat roused no alarm, and had marvelled at his power to play with menwithout their dreaming of what was going forward.
And now it was Master More that was threatened. Ralph knew well thatthere was far more behind the scenes than he could understand or evenperceive, and recognised that the position of Sir Thomas was moresignificant than would appear, and that developments might be expectedto follow soon.
For himself he had no shrinking from his task. He understood thatgovernment was carried on by such methods, and that More himself wouldbe the first to acknowledge that in war many things were permissiblethat would be outrageous in times of peace, and that these were times ofwar. To call upon a friend, to eat his bread and salt, and talkfamiliarly with him, and to be on the watch all the while for a weakspot through which that friend might be wounded, seemed to Ralph,trained now and perfected in Cromwell's school, a perfectly legitimatepolicy, and he walked homewards this summer evening, pleased with thisnew mark of confidence, and anxious to acquit himself well in his task.
* * * * *
The house that Ralph occupied in Westminster was in a street to the westof the Abbey, and stood back a little between its neighbours. It was avery small one, of only two rooms in width and one in depth, and threestories high; but it had been well furnished, chiefly with thingsbrought up from Overfield Court, to which Ralph had taken a fancy, andwhich his father had not denied him. He lived almost entirely in thefirst floor, his bedroom and sitting-room being divided by the narrowlanding at the head of the stairs that led up to the storey above, whichwas occupied by Mr. Morris and a couple of other servants. The lowerstorey Ralph used chiefly for purposes of business, and for interviewswhich were sufficiently numerous for one engaged in so many affairs.Cromwell had learnt by now that he could be trusted to say little and tolearn much, and the early acts of many little dramas that had ended intragedy had been performed in the two gravely-furnished rooms on theground floor. A good deal of the law-business, in its early stages,connected with the annulling of the King's marriage with Queen Katharinehad been done there; a great canonist from a foreign university hadexplained there his views in broken English, helped out with Latin, to acouple of shrewd-faced men, while Ralph watched the case for his master;and Cromwell himself had found the little retired house a conveniencefor meeting with persons whom he did not wish to frighten over much,while Ralph and Mr. Morris sat alert and expectant on the other side ofthe hall, with the door open, listening for raised voices or other signsof a quarrel.
The rooms upstairs had been furnished with considerable care. The floorsof both were matted, for the plan involved less trouble than thecontinual laying of clean rushes. The sitting-room was panelled up sixfeet from the floor, and the three feet of wall above were covered withreally beautiful tapestry that Ralph had brought up from Overfield.There was a great table in the centre, along one side of which rested aset of drawers with brass handles, and in the centre of the table was adeep well, covered by a flap that lay level with the rest of the top.Another table stood against the wall, on which his meals were served,and the door of a cupboard in which his plate and knives were keptopened immediately above it, designed in the thickness of the wall.There were half-a-dozen chairs, two or three other pieces of furniture,a backed settle by the fire and a row of bookshelves opposite thewindows; and over the mantelpiece, against the tapestry, hung a pictureof Cromwell, painted by Holbein, and rejected by him before it wasfinished. Ralph had begged it from the artist who was on the point ofdestroying it. It represented the sitter's head and shoulders inthree-quarter face, showing his short hair, his shrewd heavy face, withits double chin, and the furred gown below.
Mr. Morris was ready for his master and opened the door to him.
"There are some letters come, Mr. Ralph, sir," he said. "I have laidthem on your table."
Ralph nodded, slipped off his thin cloak into his servant's handswithout speaking, laid down his cane and went upstairs.
The letters were very much what he expected, and dealt with cases onwhich he was engaged. There was an entreaty from a country squire nearEpping Forest, whose hounds had got into trouble with the King'sforesters that he would intercede for him to Cromwell. A begging letterfrom a monk who had been ejected from his monastery for repeatedmisconduct, and who represented himself as starving; Ralph lifted thisto his nostrils and it smelt powerfully of spirits, and he laid it downagain, smiling to himself. A torrent of explanation from a schoolmasterwho had been reported for speaking against the sacrament of the altar,calling the saints to witness that he was no follower of Fryth in suchdetestable heresy. A dignified protest from a Justice of the Peace inKent who had been reproved by Cromwell, through Ralph's agency, foracquitting a sturdy beggar, and who begged that he might in future dealwith a responsible person; and this Ralph laid aside, smiling again andpromising himself that he would have the pleasure of granting therequest. An offer, written in a clerkly hand, from a fellow who couldnot sign his name but had appended a cross, to submit some importantevidence of a treasonable plot, on the consideration of secrecy and asuitable reward.
A year ago such a budget would have given Ralph considerable pleasure,and a sense of his own importance; but business had been growing on himrapidly of late, as his master perceived his competence, and it gave himno thrill to docket this one, write a refusal to that, a guarded answerto another, and finally to open the well of his table and drop thebundle in.
Then he turned round his chair, blew out one candle carefully, and setto thinking about Master Thomas More.