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Authors: C. J. Sansom
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pitcher.
‘He’s clever, Abbot Fabian. He knew there would be no more forced closures, not after the northern rebellion. The commissioner told me to find something in my legal books to threaten him with. I told him he was wasting his time, but Robin Singleton was never any good as a scholar; he made his way by bluster. God rest him,’ he added, though as a good reformer he did not cross himself.
‘What you say is true enough,’ I agreed, ‘unless one can find other breaches of the law. Sodomy was spoken of, I hear, and theft. Capital offences both.’
Goodhaps sighed. ‘For once Lord Cromwell has the wrong notion. The local Justice is a good reformer but his reports of land sales at undervalue don’t hold water. There is no evidence of anything improper in the accounts.’
‘And the talk of vice?’
‘Nothing. The abbot insists they have all reformed since the visitation. The last prior encouraged those vile practices, but he was removed together with a couple of the worst offenders, and that Scots brute put in.’
I emptied my cup, but forbore to ask for more. I was bone-tired, and the wine and the warmth from the fire made me want to lie down and sleep, but I needed a clear head for some hours yet.
‘How do you find the brothers?’
He shrugged. ‘Like them all. Lazy and content. They play cards and hunt - you’ll have seen the place is crawling with dogs - and skimp the services, but they observe the injunctions, have sermons in English, and don’t have bawdy women walking around the place. That red-faced prior’s a disciplinarian. He makes himself out a supporter of Lord Cromwell’s injunctions, but I trust none of them. The senior monks are a smooth, clever lot but under the surface they’re all full of the old heresies. They keep that to themselves, though. Except that Carthusian cripple, of course, and he’s not part of the community.’
‘Ah yes, Brother Jerome. We encountered him.’
‘Do you not know who he is?’
‘No.’
‘A relative of Queen Jane, God rest her. He refused the oath, but to have him executed like the other Carthusians would have been an embarrassment. They tortured him into swearing, and then hid him away down here as a pensioner - another relative is a big landowner hereabouts. I would have thought Lord Cromwell’s office would have known he was here.’
I inclined my head. ‘Papers get lost, I suppose, even in his office.’
‘The other monks don’t like him because he insults them, calls them soft and lazy. He’s not allowed to leave the precincts.’
‘No doubt Commissioner Singleton spoke to many of the monks to see what he could uncover. Some of those involved in the sodomy scandal would still be here?’
‘The tall one with wild fair hair perhaps?’ Mark interjected.
Goodhaps shrugged. ‘Oh, him. Brother Gabriel, the sacrist. Yes, he was one. Looks quite normal, doesn’t he? Big and tall. He has a wild look about him sometimes, though. Commissioner Singleton pressed them, but they all say they are as pure as angels nowadays. He got me to do some interviews, question some of them about the detail of their lives - though I’m a scholar, I’m not trained for that sort of thing.’
‘I gather Commissioner Singleton did not make himself popular? I knew him, by the way. He had a fierce manner.’
‘Yes, his brusque ways never made him friends, not that he cared.’
‘Tell me how he died.’
The old man hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink into himself.
‘He had given up trying to pressurize the monks. He set me to listing all the ways a monastery may break the canon law - scraping the bottom of the barrel. He spent most of his time looking through the accounts and the archives. He was getting anxious, he needed something for Lord Cromwell. I didn’t see him much the last couple of days, he was busy going through the bursar’s
‘He’s clever, Abbot Fabian. He knew there would be no more forced closures, not after the northern rebellion. The commissioner told me to find something in my legal books to threaten him with. I told him he was wasting his time, but Robin Singleton was never any good as a scholar; he made his way by bluster. God rest him,’ he added, though as a good reformer he did not cross himself.
‘What you say is true enough,’ I agreed, ‘unless one can find other breaches of the law. Sodomy was spoken of, I hear, and theft. Capital offences both.’
Goodhaps sighed. ‘For once Lord Cromwell has the wrong notion. The local Justice is a good reformer but his reports of land sales at undervalue don’t hold water. There is no evidence of anything improper in the accounts.’
‘And the talk of vice?’
‘Nothing. The abbot insists they have all reformed since the visitation. The last prior encouraged those vile practices, but he was removed together with a couple of the worst offenders, and that Scots brute put in.’
I emptied my cup, but forbore to ask for more. I was bone-tired, and the wine and the warmth from the fire made me want to lie down and sleep, but I needed a clear head for some hours yet.
‘How do you find the brothers?’
He shrugged. ‘Like them all. Lazy and content. They play cards and hunt - you’ll have seen the place is crawling with dogs - and skimp the services, but they observe the injunctions, have sermons in English, and don’t have bawdy women walking around the place. That red-faced prior’s a disciplinarian. He makes himself out a supporter of Lord Cromwell’s injunctions, but I trust none of them. The senior monks are a smooth, clever lot but under the surface they’re all full of the old heresies. They keep that to themselves, though. Except that Carthusian cripple, of course, and he’s not part of the community.’
‘Ah yes, Brother Jerome. We encountered him.’
‘Do you not know who he is?’
‘No.’
‘A relative of Queen Jane, God rest her. He refused the oath, but to have him executed like the other Carthusians would have been an embarrassment. They tortured him into swearing, and then hid him away down here as a pensioner - another relative is a big landowner hereabouts. I would have thought Lord Cromwell’s office would have known he was here.’
I inclined my head. ‘Papers get lost, I suppose, even in his office.’
‘The other monks don’t like him because he insults them, calls them soft and lazy. He’s not allowed to leave the precincts.’
‘No doubt Commissioner Singleton spoke to many of the monks to see what he could uncover. Some of those involved in the sodomy scandal would still be here?’
‘The tall one with wild fair hair perhaps?’ Mark interjected.
Goodhaps shrugged. ‘Oh, him. Brother Gabriel, the sacrist. Yes, he was one. Looks quite normal, doesn’t he? Big and tall. He has a wild look about him sometimes, though. Commissioner Singleton pressed them, but they all say they are as pure as angels nowadays. He got me to do some interviews, question some of them about the detail of their lives - though I’m a scholar, I’m not trained for that sort of thing.’
‘I gather Commissioner Singleton did not make himself popular? I knew him, by the way. He had a fierce manner.’
‘Yes, his brusque ways never made him friends, not that he cared.’
‘Tell me how he died.’
The old man hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink into himself.
‘He had given up trying to pressurize the monks. He set me to listing all the ways a monastery may break the canon law - scraping the bottom of the barrel. He spent most of his time looking through the accounts and the archives. He was getting anxious, he needed something for Lord Cromwell. I didn’t see him much the last couple of days, he was busy going through the bursar’s
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