As with Anne Boleyn, Katherine Howard's date of birth may only with difficulty be determined. All contemporary writers are agreed that she was very young when she married the King. She was certainly born before 1527, as in that year, in a letter to Wolsey, her father stated he had ten children, 'my children and my wife's'. But as the date of Lord Edmund's marriage is not known, it is not possible to estimate a date of birth for their eldest son, Charles. We do know, however, that Charles, Henry and George were born before 1524, for in that year they are mentioned in the will of John Legh, their mother's former father-in-law. Katherine and her sister Mary are not mentioned in this will at all, although they are named in the will of John Legh's wife Isabella in 1527. It may therefore be safely assumed that they were not yet born in 1524, and that the evidence contemporary to the period of {Catherine's birth argues a date ofc.1525.
This must now be compared to later evidence dating from the time of her marriage to the King in 1540. The 1525 date is corroborated by the admittedly dubious Spanish Chronicle, which states that Katherine was fifteen when she first met Henry VIII. We have seen that this source is generally unreliable, although it has been credited with accuracy in places. Mr Richard Hilles, a London merchant, writing in 1540, referred to Katherine as 'a very little girl', and although this may refer to her diminutive stature, it could also refer to her age, as it conveys a distinct impression of extreme youth. Marillac stated in 1541 that Katherine's relationship with her admirer, Francis Dereham, lasted from the age of thirteen until she was eighteen. As their affair ended in 1539, this would place her date of birth in or around 1521, a date many historians have accepted without examining the other evidence. But if Katherine had been alive in 1524, how then do we explain the omission of her name from John Legh's will? Moreover, it must also be stressed that Marillac was frequently inaccurate in his diplomatic reports, and was not above inventing facts of his own. From other evidence, which will be examined in detail in the next chapter, it appears that Katherine's relationship with Dereham was of short duration only, much less than the five years alleged by Marillac, and probably lasting no longer than two years. Her earlier liaison with her music master, Henry Manox, was of even shorter duration. Thus, if she was born in 1525, she was twelve when she became sexually active, and we must remember that many girls were married at that age in the Tudor period.
The date of 1519 has sometimes been given as Katherine's birthdate because of an inscription on a portrait by Holbein of a lady long identified as Katherine Howard. However, it has now been proved that the portrait in question has no connection with her, and probably represents Jane Seymour's sister Elizabeth, the wife of Gregory Cromwell. Taking all the other evidence into account, there is a strong case to be made for Katherine having been born in 1525, or thereabouts, which made her, indeed, a 'very little girl' at the time she attracted the attention of Henry VIII. And Henry, of course, was just at that susceptible age when a man likes to prove to himself and others that he is still an attractive proposition to young girls.
Katherine's mother died when she was no more than a toddler, and her father quickly remarried. Her new stepmother was Dorothy, daughter of Sir Thomas Troyes and widow of Sir William Uvedale. However, the new Lady Howard was to play very little part in Katherine's life, for she was sent at that time to live in the household of her step-grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, widow of the second Duke; such an arrangement was customary with daughters of the nobility. Here, she received some rudiments of education, although the Duchess was a lax guardian and allowed her charge to run wild, something that would have grave repercussions for both of them in the future. Katherine remained with the Duchess, commuting between the Dowager's town house at Lambeth and her country estate at Horsham in Sussex, until her uncle Norfolk arranged for her to go to court in the spring of 1540. Meanwhile, her father, who had lost his second wife and married yet a third time, to Mrs Margaret Jennings, had died in 1539. This left Katherine bereft of any close relatives with genuine concern for her welfare, for her uncle saw her merely as a tool with which to achieve his political ends, and her step-grandmother was not very interested in her.
Several portraits said to be of Katherine survive, but only one may be said to be authentic, and that is a miniature by Holbein, of which two versions exist, one in the Royal Collection and another in the collection of the Duke of Buccleuch. These are very similar, showing the subject seated, half-length, against a celeste-blue background. She wears a very low-cut dress of tawny brocade with furred oversleeves and green damask false sleeves, and an ornate French hood rests on her auburn hair. The face of the sitter is faintly impudent, tilted at an angle, wearing an imperious expression, although plump and round with the rather large Howard nose. Recent research, undertaken by Dr Roy Strong, former Director of the National Portrait Gallery, has shown that the miniature's identification as Katherine Howard, dating from 1756, is probably based on sound foundations. The sumptuous costume, and the fact that the sitter was painted at all, would indicate also that here, indeed, is one of Henry VIII's unfortunate queens, and the only possible identification is with Katherine Howard. Other portraits once claimed to represent her, such as the Holbein half-length in Toledo, Ohio, copies of which are in the National Portrait Gallery, London, and Trentham Hall, a Holbein sketch of dubious authenticity in the Royal Collection, and a portrait at Hatfield House showing a lady wearing the gable hood of the 1520s, have all been shown to be spurious.
It was not long before Katherine attracted the attention of the King. By April 1540, he was said to be very enamoured of her, and before the month was out had made her substantial grants of lands confiscated from convicted criminals. Katherine's youthful charm rejuvenated Henry, and she seems to have responded warmly to his advances, having no doubt been well primed by her family. It was certainly a dazzling experience to be courted by the King, and Katherine was not without ambition - Norfolk and Gardiner had explained what their purpose was in pushing her into the spotlight. Yet she was no Anne Boleyn, being a good deal younger than Anne had been, and far more empty-headed, although she was precocious enough when it came to experience of men. It had already therefore occurred to her that she might become queen of England, and this was no doubt enough to compensate for the fact that, as a man, Henry had very little to offer a girl of her age. He was now nearing fifty, and had aged beyond his years. The abscess on his leg was slowing him down, and there were days when he could hardly walk, let alone ride. Worse still, it oozed pus continually, and had to be dressed daily, not a pleasant task for the person assigned to do it as the wound stank dreadfully. As well as being afflicted with this, the King had become exceedingly fat: a new suit of armour, made for him at this time, measured 54" around the waist. He was frequently irascible, quick to burst out in temper, and given to bouts of black depression as the years advanced. Yet on occasion he could still exert himself to be charming, especially to the ladies, and he was doing that now for Katherine's benefit, behaving as if he were the magnificent specimen of manhood who had vanquished so many women in his youth. Katherine flattered Henry's vanity; she pretended not to notice his bad leg, and did not flinch from the smell it exuded. She was young, graceful and pretty, and Henry was entranced. The Catholic faction watched with satisfaction as their affair progressed. The Queen, not now so naive as formerly, watched too; she bore Katherine no rancour on a personal level, for she was not in love with her husband, yet this new development made her fearful. If Henry believed she stood in the way of his future happiness, what might he not do to rid himself of her?
May Day was celebrated that year with all the usual festivities at court. The King remembered that, in the eyes of the world, he was still a married man, and appeared with his queen at the jousts that were given for five days at Westminster to mark the occasion. They also attended the banquets that were held in Durham House, which had been thrown open in order to admit the public, who were eager to view the festivities. Here, the King entertained those who had
been victorious in the jousts and gave them gifts, 100 marks each and houses to live in. Cromwell, meanwhile, was watching the royal couple closely, and learned to his discomfort that they were no better acquainted than before. On 6 May, he sought out Sir Thomas Wriothesley, and told him how troubled he was. 'The King liketh not the Queen, nor ever has from the beginning; I think assuredly she is as good a maid for him as she was when she came to England.' Wriothesley said he was sorry to hear it, and urged Cromwell to 'devise how his Grace may be relieved'. Cromwell agreed that this was the only course to take. 'But how?' he asked. Wriothesley would not be drawn, or did not know, yet he too had urged the King to ally himself with Cleves, and like Cromwell, he feared for his own skin. 'For God's sake, devise relief for the King, or we shall both smart for it!' he begged. A few days later, he brought up the matter of the King's marriage in Council, lamenting 'the hard case in which the King's Highness stood, in being bound to a wife whom he could not love'. Of course, there were many men similarly afflicted, but their unwillingness to have relations with their wives did not affect the succession to the throne. The Council, to a man, agreed that something must be done to extricate his Grace from this match that was so repugnant to him.
Henry continued to complain about the Queen to Cromwell, saying she 'waxed wilful and stubborn with him'. She was probably tense with anxiety and hurt by his inexplicable neglect, but it was characteristic of Henry to shift the blame for what had happened on to her shoulders, and to take offence at her tactical withdrawal. She probably could not help herself; worry about what might happen to her resulted in her being less amiable towards her terrifying spouse than she had been hitherto. Cromwell saw fit to warn her against antagonising the King, and reminded her of the expediency of doing her utmost to render herself more agreeable'. None knew better than he the wisdom of this advice, yet Anne was too bewildered and uneasy to heed it; in fact, she took this friendly warning to be a preamble of worse things to follow. Nor was she even aware of how she had given offence.
What with his inept minister and his difficult wife, the King was going about feeling very sorry for himself. He let it be known that he was 'in a manner weary of his life', although this was belied by his behaviour with Katherine Howard. Before very long, this assumed woefulness had given way to anger, directed chiefly against Cromwell, who was responsible for his present predicament. Once aroused, Henry's anger would not abate until he had exacted his revenge.
On 10 June 1540, Cromwell entered the council chamber as usual, in readiness for the day's business, but before he could be seated, the Duke of Norfolk stepped forward and arrested him in the King's name. Before he knew where he was, Cromwell was being transported by barge to the Tower, whither he had himself sent so many others. There were those who were sad to see him toppled, although the majority rejoiced, chief among them the members of the Catholic faction, who rightly saw in Cromwell's fall the triumph of their own ambitions. On that same day, a Bill of Attainder against Cromwell was drawn up and laid before Parliament; the charges included both treason and heresy. Such an Act, the instrument that Cromwell himself had used so often to bring others down, ironically was being employed in the same way against him. On 19 June, the Bill received the approval of the upper House, and was sent down to the Commons.
The King now laid plans for the annulment of his marriage to Anne, which would inevitably follow. He sent her to the old palace at Richmond on 24 June, on the pretext that there was plague in London and that the country air would benefit her health. Anne left without question, but with forebodings. Charles de Marillac heard 'talk of a diminution of love and a new affection for another lady'. Henry had promised to join Anne in two days, but did not do so; Marillac told his master that, had there been any truth in the story that there was plague in the City, the King would not have remained for any considerations, 'for he is the most timid person that could be in such cases'. Rumours were flying fast around court and City, and people began to be aware that there was a new love in the King's life. His intention to put away the Queen was known of in the City before 24 June, as was his affection for Katherine Howard. The citizens watched the King being rowed in a small boat, in broad daylight, to visit her on many occasions at Lambeth, whither she had retired once the Queen had left court, and Bishop Gardiner entertained Henry and Katherine to banquets at his palace in Southwark. However, the cynical Londoners regarded this not so much as evidence that the Queen was about to be divorced, but as adultery. Before long, the royal barge was to be seen every night on its way to Lambeth, so that the King could pass the evening there; ostensibly, he was visiting the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, but few were deceived by this excuse.
Far from being impotent, Henry was now laying siege in earnest to Katherine's virtue. Her family, unaware of the fact that she was already sexually experienced, had warned her to maintain her 'pure and honest condition', although she was to make it obvious that she would welcome the royal advances once a wedding ring was on her finger. Both Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour before her had reached the consort's throne by deploying such tactics, and Katherine was wise enough to realise that her family's advice was sound. As for the King, blissfully unaware that he was being manipulated, he was, for the last time in his life, passionately in love.
It was now the end of June. As Anne of Cleves waited apprehensively at Richmond for a husband who never came, and as the King pursued Katherine Howard in London, events were moving speedily towards a climax. On 29 June, the Bill of Attainder against Cromwell passed successfully through the Commons and became law, which meant that he was adjudged a traitor and would forfeit both life and honours, as well as all his possessions. Told of this, the condemned man wrote to the King from the Tower, hoping that his master would be merciful and at least spare his life: 'To me, you have been most bountiful, more like a father than a master. I ask mercy where I have offended, but I have done my best, no one can justly accuse me of having done wrong wilfully.' His best had not been enough; even though the charges against him made no mention of his having caused the King to be bound in an unsatisfactory marriage, it was this that sealed his fate. Although Archbishop Cranmer interceded on his behalf, the King was adamant that Cromwell must die, although he was pleased to defer the execution so that he might use Cromwell to help him dissolve the Cleves marriage. When Cromwell realised that he was indeed to suffer the extreme penalty, he grew frantic, and on 3 July, sent Henry another letter of supplication, which ended with the plaintive cry: 'Most gracious Prince, I cry for mercy, mercy, mercy!' Henry was not listening.
By 5 July, some inkling of what was afoot had reached Queen Anne at Richmond; her chamberlain, the Earl of Rutland, acting on the King's orders, made a point of assuring her that Henry would 'do nothing but that should stand by the law of God, and for the discharge of his conscience and hers, and the quietness of the realm, and at the suit of all his lords and commons'. Whether this put Anne's mind at rest is debatable; what is probable is that the prospect of a divorce was not unwelcome to her. She would not be a second Katherine of Aragon.
In Parliament on 6 July the lords petitioned the King to have the legality of his marriage investigated by a convocation of the clergy, saying they were concerned about the likelihood of a disputed succession should Anne of Cleves bear children. They pointed out that if the Duke of Lorraine's son stood by his alleged precontract, the King's marriage would be null and void. However, if- as was supposed - the King and Queen were married in name only, then the Church had power to annul their union. The King readily agreed that the clergy should look into the matter; lamenting the fact that he had been 'espoused against his will', he told Parliament that he could refuse nothing to his people, and was ready to answer any questions that might be put to him, for he had no other object in view but 'the glory of God, the welfare of the realm, and the triumph of truth'. Moreover, Henry was now sure enough of the Emperor's goodwill to risk angering the Duke of Cleves, though he had decided to make generous financial provision for Anne in an
attempt to avert this.
That afternoon saw the Privy Council making its way to Richmond to see the Queen and obtain her consent to the institution of divorce proceedings. When they had explained the situation to her at length, Anne answered 'plainly and frankly that she was contented that the discussion of the matter be committed to the clergy as judges competent in that behalf. The King, hearing this, was delighted that she should be so reasonable.
On 7 July, Henry made a written declaration to be laid before the clergy appointed to investigate his marriage. He assured them that he had no ulterior motive in seeking a divorce. When the Cleves marriage had been suggested, he had been anxious to proceed, 'because I heard so much both of her excellent beauty and virtuous behaviour'. But when he saw her at Rochester, he 'liked her so ill that I was woe that ever she came into England, and deliberated with myself that, if it were possible to find some means to break off, I would never enter yoke with her'. Both Admiral FitzWilliam and Sir Anthony Browne would bear this out, and Cromwell also, 'since he is a person knowing himself condemned to die, and will not damn his soul'. Cromwell, in particular, could testify that the King had gone into the marriage protesting that he did not consent to it. Moreover, went on the King, he himself had 'lack enough of the will and power' to consummate the marriage, as both his physicians could testify.