Katharine of Aragon (60 page)

“Matters of state, sweetheart,” he would murmur into that pretty ear; and she would sigh and cling to him and, even while she listened to the tales of his genius, she still longed for him to be an ordinary man, like the merchants who were her neighbors.

They had eaten and drunk well. The table in this house was more lavish than it had been a year before; the garments his wife and children wore, more splendid. He had talked to his children, listened to an account of their progress; had dismissed them; and had brought Mistress Wynter to this bedchamber where they had made love.

Now was the time for talk; so he lay relaxed and spoke of all that was in his mind.

“But when you are Pope, Thomas, how shall I be able to see you then?”

“Why, 'twill be easier then, my love,” he told her. “A Pope is all-powerful. He does not have to fight his petty enemies as a Bishop does. Roderigo Borgia, who was Pope Alexander the Sixth, had his mistress living near the Vatican; he had his children living with him and none dared tell him this should not be done…except those who lived far away. The power of the Pope is as great as that of the King. Have no fear. When I am Pope our way will be made easier.”

“Then Thomas, how I wish you were Pope!”

“You go too fast. There are a great many steps, I can tell you, from tutor to King's almoner, from King's almoner to…My love, I have a piece of news for you. I have heard that I am to receive the Cardinal's hat from Rome.”

“Thomas! Now you will be known as Cardinal Wolsey.”

She heard the ecstasy in his voice. “The hat!” he whispered. “When it is brought to me, I shall receive it with great ceremony so all may know that at last we have an English Cardinal; and that is good for England. Cardinal Wolsey! There is only one more step to be taken, my love. At the next conclave… why should not an English Pope be elected to wear the Papal Crown?”

“You will do it, Thomas. Have you not done everything that you have set out to do?”

“Not quite all. If that were so I should have my family with me.”

“And you a churchman, Thomas! How could that be?”

“I would do it. Doubt it not.”

She did not doubt it.

“You are different from all other men,” she said, “and I marvel that the whole world does not know it.”

“They will. Now I will tell you of the new house I have acquired.”

“A new house! For us, Thomas?”

“No,” he said sadly. “It is for myself. There I shall entertain the King; but perhaps one day it will be your home…yours and the children's.”

“Tell me of the house, Thomas.”

“‘Tis on the banks of the Thames, well past Richmond. The Manor of Hampton. It is a pleasant place and belongs to the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. I have bought the lease of this mansion and now I intend to make it my very own, for as it stands it suits me not. There I shall build a palace and it shall be a great palace, my sweetheart …a palace to compare with the palaces of Kings, that all the world shall know that if I wish to have a palace, I have the means to build me one.”

“It will be some time before this palace is built as you wish it.”

“Nay. I shall have them working well for me, sweetheart. I am setting the most prominent members of the Freemasons to work for me, and who now would care to displease Cardinal Wolsey? I have decided that there shall be five courts about which the apartments will be built. I tell you, they will be fit for a King.”

“Does the King know of this, Thomas? I mean, what will he say if a subject builds a palace to match his own?”

“He knows and shows great interest. I am well acquainted with our King, sweetheart. He likes not the display of wealth of certain noblemen who have the temerity to fancy themselves more royal than the Tudors, but with one whom he believes he has brought out of obscurity, it is a different matter. In Hampton Court Palace, my love, he will see a reflection of his own power. So I talk to him of the palace and he is of the opinion that I take his advice. But it is he, you know, who always takes mine.”

Wolsey began to laugh, but Mistress Wynter trembled slightly and when he asked what ailed her, she said: “You have come so high, Thomas, perilously high.”

“And you think—the higher the rise the greater the fall? Have no fear, my Lark, I am sure-footed enough to remain perilously high.”

“I was fearing that you might be too high to remember us… myself and the children.”

“Never. You shall see what I will do for our son…for you all. Remember, my prosperity is yours.”

“And soon you will be leaving England again for France.”

Wolsey was thoughtful. “I am not sure of that.”

“But the King is going to war this year as last. The whole country talks of it.”

“There are certain matters which set me wondering, my dear. When we were in Lille we made a treaty with Maximilian and Ferdinand to attack the French. We won two towns which were of the utmost importance to Maximilian, and we paid him thousands of crowns to work with us. It seemed to me at the time that Maximilian came very well out of that campaign—as Ferdinand did out of the previous one. What was in it for England? But the King was pleased, so it was necessary for his servant to be pleased. One thing I have learned: a man must never go against his King. So, because Henry is pleased, so must I seem to be. But I am uncertain. I believe that Henry will soon discover that Maximilian and Ferdinand are not the friends he believes them to be.”

“Then there would be no war in France?”

“It might well be so. My dear one, imagine these two wily old men. They have great experience of statesmanship. Remember that Maximilian's son Philip, and Ferdinand's daughter, mad Juana, were married. Their sons are Charles and young Ferdinand. They have their eyes on Italy, not on France. They want Italy for young Ferdinand because Charles will have the whole of Spain and possibly the Austrian Empire, which includes the Netherlands. The King of France also has his eyes on Italy. 'Tis my belief that the English invasion of France is being planned by Ferdinand and Maximilian to put fear into Louis' heart, and that if they can make favorable terms with him regarding Italy they will be ready to leave their English allies to fight France alone. It was significant that after the capture of Thérouanne and Tournai Maximilian was very eager that hostilities should cease. He knew further battles would mean bitter losses and he did not wish to impoverish himself, but to be in a strong position to bargain with the French.”

“And our King does not know this?”

“As yet he is a happy boy; he thinks with the mind of a boy. He trusts others because he is frank himself. He has had warning of Ferdinand's perfidy; yet he is prepared to trust him as ever.”

“It is because Ferdinand is his father-in-law, perhaps.”

“The Queen is a clever woman, I believe, but she is fast losing her influence. The King is enamored of Lady Taillebois but Katharine does not know this. Lady Taillebois does not interest herself in politics. But she might not please the King forever, and if there were a woman who made great demands on the King and sought to influence him… who knows what would happen.”

“Thomas, I am alarmed by all this. It seems so dangerous.”

“You have nothing to fear, my love. I will always protect you and our children.”

“But Thomas, what if…?”

She did not say it. It seemed sacrilege even to think of it. Thomas would always maintain his place. There was no man in England who was as clever as her Thomas.

THE KING PACED
up and down his apartment and with him was Charles Brandon, the newly created Duke of Suffolk. Suffolk, recently returned from Flanders, looked grim.

“So she'll not have you,” Henry was saying.

“She was adamant in her refusals. You can be sure Maximilian has had a hand in this.”

“An English Duke is match enough for a Duchess of Savoy!” growled Henry.

“Alas, Your Grace. She—or perhaps the Emperor—would not agree. And there is another matter.”

Henry nodded. “Say on, Charles.”

“There was a hesitancy in the Emperor's manner when, on your instructions, I tried to bring the negotiations for the Princess Mary's marriage to completion.”

“Hesitation! What do you mean?”

“He was evasive. He seemed unwilling to make the final arrangements. Your Grace, it appears to me that the Emperor is one such as Ferdinand. He makes plans with us, and at the same time with others elsewhere.”

Henry's brows were drawn together, he was thinking of the man who had placed himself under his banner and declared his willingness to serve the King of England.

“I cannot believe this,” he shouted. “He served me well.”

“He was paid well for doing so, Your Grace.”

Henry's face darkened; but he could take more from Brandon than almost any other man.

“What means this change of front?”

“I know not, Your Grace, but let us be prepared.”

Henry stamped angrily from the apartment, but he gave orders that preparations for war were to go on apace.

IT WAS A WEEK
or so later when an envoy from France arrived to negotiate for those prisoners whom Henry had taken at the battles of Thérouanne and Tournai and who still remained in England.

The envoy asked if he might speak in private with the King and, when Henry received him—in Wolsey's presence—the envoy said: “I have words for Your Grace's ears alone.”

Wolsey retired with dignity, knowing that the King would immediately pass on the news to him, and indeed having a shrewd notion as to what it must be.

When they were alone the envoy said to Henry: “Your Grace, I have a message from my master, the King of France. He wishes to warn you that King Ferdinand has renewed the truce he made with France, and that the Emperor Maximilian stands beside him in this.”

“Impossible!” cried Henry. “This must be untrue.”

“Your Grace will soon hear confirmation of this,” said the envoy. “But my master, wishing to prepare you and to show you that he is willing to be your friend, determined to let you know of it as soon as the truce had been signed.”

The veins stood out at Henry's temples; his face was purple and he cried: “The traitors! By God, I'll be revenged for this. My friends indeed! Base traitors both. They'll be sorry if these words you speak are truth. And if they are lies… then shall you be.”

“I speak truth, Your Grace.”

“By God!” cried Henry, and strode from the apartment; storming into Wolsey's quarters, he told him the news.

Wolsey, who was already prepared for it, received it calmly enough.

“What now?” demanded Henry.

“We know our false friends for what they are.”

“That will not conquer France for us.”

“A project which Your Grace will doubtless decide must be set aside for a while.”

The King's eyes were glazed with anger, and in those moments he looked like a petulant boy who has been deprived of some much desired toy.

“Your Grace, what else had the envoy to say?”

“What else? Was that not enough?”

“Enough indeed, Sire. But I thought mayhap the King of France, showing his friendship in this way, might have further signs of friendship to show us.”

Henry looked bewildered.

“Would Your Grace consider recalling the envoy? Perhaps a little delicate questioning with Your Grace's usual subtlety might reveal something of the mind of the King of France.”

“What is this you are saying? Do you believe it possible that I might become the ally of the King of France!”

“Your Grace, the other powers of Europe have proved themselves no friends of yours.”

“‘Tis true enough, by God.”

“And Your Grace is now telling yourself, I know, that there can be no harm in hearing what this Frenchman has to say.”

“Send for him,” growled Henry.

In a short time the envoy stood before them.

Wolsey said: “Is it Your Grace's wish that I speak of those matters which you have explained to me?”

“Speak on,” said Henry.

“It would seem,” said Wolsey, “that the motive of the King of France is friendship towards his brother of England.”

“That is my master's desire, Your Grace, Your Excellency.”

“Then how would he show this friendship?”

“By making a peace with the English who shall be his friends, and forming an alliance which could not but bring dismay to those who have so clearly shown themselves the enemies of both countries. He says that to show his good faith he would be happy to make a marriage between France and England. As you know, Your Grace, Your Excellency, the King is without a wife. He is still of marriageable age. The marriage of the Princess Mary with the treacherous Hapsburg surely cannot now take place. The King of France would be happy to take the Princess as his bride.”

Wolsey caught his breath. The King was astounded. This was a complete volte-face. But the treachery of Ferdinand and Maximilian rankled; and what better revenge could possibly be achieved than such a treaty, such a marriage? It would be France and England against Austria and Spain. Henry saw now that those two wily old men had wanted to set him fighting France while they turned their attention to Italy—thus widening the dominions of their grandsons.

It was all startlingly clear. And the revenge: this alliance, this marriage.

Wolsey was looking cautiously at the King. “His Grace will wish to have time to consider such a proposal,” he said.

“That is so,” said Henry.

The envoy was dismissed, and, placing his arm through that of Wolsey, Henry began to pace the apartment with him while they talked.

THE NEWS WAS OUT
and Katharine was bewildered. So once more her father had shown his treachery. He and Maximilian together had been profiting by the inexperience of the King of England and had used him shamelessly: Ferdinand in the conquest of Navarre, Maximilian for the capture of those two towns which were important to Netherlands trade. In addition Maximilian had received many English crowns as payment for his double dealing. They had endeavored to win concessions from the King of France by informing him of imminent invasion by England so that he would be ready to make peace with them, almost at any price in order to be free to tackle the English invaders.