The King's Secret Matter (41 page)

Wolsey read the news and felt sick with horror. François had suffered defeat in Italy and a peace was to be made between him and the Emperor. Margaret, Regent of the Netherlands, who was the Emperor's aunt, and Louise of Savoy, the mother of François, had arranged this peace which was consequently called The Ladies' Peace. It was natural that Clement should at the same time sign a treaty with the Emperor.

‘And,' cried Henry, glowering at his Chancellor, ‘these matters are settled and we are told nothing of them until they are completed. It seems to me that our French ally is as treacherous as our Spanish ones. Why is it that we are always betrayed?'

‘Your Grace,' stammered Wolsey, who was near exhaustion and whose mind had been concentrated on the King's divorce, ‘this will mean that Campeggio will never give us the verdict we want.'

‘This trial is nothing but a mockery!' roared the King. ‘Is it not marvellous that I should be made to wait so long for that which others have for the asking?'

‘Circumstances have moved against us, Your Grace. But for the sack of Rome . . .'

‘Do not give me your buts . . .' cried the King. ‘Give me freedom to marry, that I may provide my kingdom with an heir.'

‘It would seem, Your Grace, that we should make another appeal to the Queen. If she would but retire to a convent, I am certain that Clement would immediately grant the divorce. All we need is her consent to do so, nay her desire to do so. The Emperor himself would not object to that.'

‘She must be made to see reason,' insisted the King.

‘Your Grace, have I your permission to make one more appeal to her?'

‘Do so, without delay.'

Wolsey was relieved to escape from the King, and immediately went to Campeggio's apartments, and there made the suggestion that they should go to the Queen and endeavour to show her what a benefit she would confer, not only on herself, but on all others, if she would retire to a nunnery.

The two Cardinals went by barge to Bridewell where the Queen at that time had her lodging. She was sitting with some of her women, working on her embroidery, for, she had said, she was so melancholy at this time that working with bright colours raised her spirits.

When she heard that the Cardinals had called on her, she went to greet them with skeins of red and white silk hanging about her neck.

‘Your Grace,' said Wolsey, ‘we crave your pardon for disturbing your peace, and pray you to give us a hearing.'

‘Gladly will I do so,' she answered, ‘but I cannot argue with such as you. I am not clever enough.' She touched the skeins about her neck. ‘You see how I pass my time, and my maids are not the ablest counsellors, yet I have no others in England. And Spain, where there are those on whom I could rely, is far away.'

‘Take us into your privy chamber,' said Wolsey, ‘and there we will show you the cause of our coming.'

‘My Lords,' answered the Queen, ‘if you have anything to say, speak it openly before these folk, for I fear nothing that can be alleged against me, but I would all the world should see and hear it. Therefore speak your minds openly, I pray you.'

Wolsey was uneasy and had no desire to speak before the women, so he began to explain his mission in Latin, but Katharine interrupted.

‘Pray, my good lord, speak to me in English, for I can, thank God, speak and understand English, though I do know some Latin.'

So there was nothing to be done but to speak to her in the presence of her women in English, and Wolsey said: ‘Your Grace, if you will consent to the divorce you shall lack nothing you desire in riches and honours. If you should desire to go into a convent, which would be a seemly setting for your devout manner of living, you shall have all that you require there. The King will place the Princess Mary next in order of succession to the issue of his second marriage.'

‘My lords,' said Katharine, ‘I could not answer you suddenly, for I have no one to advise me.'

Campeggio said: ‘Cardinal Wolsey and I would gladly give you the advice you need.'

‘Then now come to my private chamber and there we will speak of these matters,' she said.

So the two Cardinals and the Queen retired together, and she told them once more that she had no wish to enter a convent, that the Princess Mary was the true heir to the throne, that she herself was indeed married to the King, for she had never in truth been wife to his brother; and this she would maintain no matter what befell her.

It was clear to the Cardinals that they could not make her change her decision, so they left her, Wolsey in deep melancholy, Campeggio determined to bring a speedy end to the case.

‘This matter,' said Wolsey as they stepped into the barge,
‘must be settled without delay. We must give our judgment, and, on what we have heard, how can we help but decide in the King's favour?'

Campeggio shook his head. ‘I am not satisfied that we have heard all the truth. The Queen is right when she says this is a prejudiced court. Nay, there is one course open to us. We must refer the matter to His Holiness.'

‘The King will never stomach further delay.'

‘This matter,' answered Campeggio, ‘is not in the King's hands.'

Wolsey did not answer. He envied Campeggio his freedom. He would return to Rome where he had only to answer to the Pope and by delaying judgment he had carried out his orders. But Wolsey . . . he had served the King, and each day Henry's displeasure and dissatisfaction increased.

So slowly they sailed along the river – Campeggio would leave the barge for his lodgings and the rest for which his limbs were crying out, but Wolsey must return to the King and once more report failure.

Campeggio arrived at the court. He took his place beside Wolsey, but as the proceedings were about to open, he rose and addressed the company.

‘This court is under the jurisdiction of Rome,' he announced, ‘and the holidays have begun in Rome. Therefore this court is closed until the holidays are over. We shall reassemble here on October the first.'

There was a gasp of astonishment. Wolsey was as startled as the rest, and his brown eyes looked like great marbles in his pallid face. True, he had been expecting something like this,
but not so soon. He knew, of course, that Campeggio would never open the court again; that his one idea was to return to Italy and not come back. He had done his duty. He had opened the court of enquiry and had kept it going for a month; now he sought this excuse to close it; and meanwhile the state of affairs in Europe had steadied themselves, giving Clement some indication of which side he must take.

This was disaster at home and abroad. Wolsey's French foreign policy had failed, for the Emperor and François were now friends, and neither felt much affection for England. So he had failed in that, and the people would be more against him than ever. He had also failed the King. He had promised him divorce, yet he was no nearer getting it than he had been more than a year ago.

Suffolk, Henry's brother-in-law, who had been working zealously in the King's cause, suddenly clenched his fist and hammered it on the table.

‘England was never merry,' he declared, ‘since we had Cardinals among us.'

And as he spoke he glared at Wolsey who could not resist reminding him of that occasion when Suffolk had married Henry's sister Mary and had appealed for the Cardinal's help to placate the King. ‘Had it not been for one Cardinal,' he said, ‘you my Lord Suffolk, might have lost your head, and with it the opportunity of reviling Cardinals.'

The court broke up, and Wolsey was smiling as he saw Suffolk's crestfallen face. Norfolk was watching him with hatred too. So was Darcy. But they dared not speak against him. He was still the most powerful man in the land – under the King; and while he had the King's support, his enemies were powerless to touch him.

The King had already heard the news when Wolsey reached him.

Henry was alone and the Cardinal was surprised to see that his face was pale rather than scarlet as might have been expected. The eyes were as cold as ice.

‘So,' he said, ‘the Pope's man has closed the court.'

Wolsey bowed his head in assent.

‘And all these weeks have been wasted. He never meant to settle this matter. Meanwhile I am left uncertain.'

‘Your Grace, the Papal Legate has from the beginning practised procrastination to a fine degree.'

‘You need not tell me this. And the Queen has refused once more to enter a convent!'

‘It is so, Your Grace.'

The little blue eyes were narrowed. ‘I'll warrant she wishes me dead,' he said.

Wolsey was startled. ‘Your Grace . . .' he began.

Henry was scowling. His Chancellor had not the sharp wits which had once been his.

‘It would not surprise me,' went on Henry, ‘if there should be a plot afoot to kill both me and you.'

‘Is it so, Your Grace?' Wolsey was waiting for orders and the King was satisfied.

‘If such a plot should be discovered,' went on the King, ‘and it was found that the Queen had a part in it . . .' The little mouth was cruel, the eyes ruthless . . . ‘she should not expect to be spared,' he added.

Wolsey was thinking: Queen Katharine, you are a fool. Why did you not take yourself off to a convent? There you would have been safe. This is a man who takes what he wants, no matter who stands in his way. And you, Queen Katharine,
now stand most dangerously in his path.

The King went on: ‘This is a matter which should be laid before the Council. They will be prepared to act if evidence is brought before them. You will see to this, for I hold it to be of great importance to our safety . . . yours and mine.'

Wolsey bowed his assent.

He was vaguely troubled by his conscience, which over the years of good living he had learned to stifle.

So it has come to this, he thought. Katharine, you are in acute danger . . . and so am I.

Chapter X

N
ever in the whole of her life had Katharine felt so desolate and alone.