The King's Commoner: The rise and fall of Cardinal Wolsey (The Tudor Saga Series Book 2)

by David Field

  ‘Have we yet the finance available to launch an army into Italy? If I could free the Pope from his current “difficulty”, as you choose to call it, would he not then be better disposed to my cause?’

  ‘He might well be, Hal, but that would not change what is written in the Bible.’

  ‘Fuck the Bible!’ Henry thundered, causing Thomas to involuntarily cross himself. He looked up at Henry, fearful that he was to witness yet another of his wild rages, but the King seemed to appreciate the gravity of his outburst, and begged Thomas for both his pardon and his absolution. Thomas was also hoping that he had forgotten the issue of the availability of finance for an armed incursion into Italy, since the Treasury was as bankrupt as ever. Perhaps he should offer Henry some hope.

  ‘I would deem it both an honour and an act of friendship to call a Church Convocation, which I may do without Canterbury’s leave, given my Legatine status,’ he offered. This seemed to mollify Henry somewhat, as his breathing rate returned to normal and he nodded his agreement.

  ‘However, Thomas, in addition to the matter of the annulment of my marriage to Katherine, which of course I seek only to avoid further sinning before God, I would also seek a dispensation from his Holiness to marry again, and perhaps to a lady whose sister I have previously engaged carnally. Without such a dispensation, such a marriage would also offend God, would it not?’

  Thomas was tempted to reply that it would offend Katherine even more, but managed to bide his tongue, and with some relief he saw Henry depart, somehow heartened by the knowledge that Thomas was to consult with his fellow prelates with a view to making overtures to Rome. For all the use that was likely to be, Thomas reminded himself gloomily.

  Norfolk accepted the wine goblet with a curt nod to the page, then continued to stare out of the window as his brother-in-law gave orders for the laying of the trestles ahead of supper. Beneath them, the swans were descending onto the lake for the evening, and the sight of their long white necks reminded him of the business in hand.

  ‘She has yielded nothing, say you?’

  ‘Nothing of any great significance,’ Boleyn assured him as he joined him in the window seat. ‘The matter is clearly a delicate one, but fortunately she confides everything to Mary, and she in turn reports to their mother, from whom I obtain my information. It is thereby third-hand, but I am led to believe that it has not progressed beyond a furtive fumbling of the duckies. Anything below the waist will require a crown, or so she assures us.’

  ‘It is as well,’ Norfolk replied with a leer. ‘The more that Henry’s codpiece swells with lust, the more determined he will be to have her. That simpering old fool Knight cannot get beyond the Swiss Guards, so Henry has gone back to Wolsey, the Devil take him. We must perforce put our trust in the fat one’s ability to wave his holy water in the right place, because Henry is not one inclined to wait forever in order to breach a maidenhead, and it may be that Anne will have to yield more unless Wolsey can perform miracles and turn the Bible inside out. How goes Anne with the Queen?’

  Boleyn smiled. ‘We are fortunate that Katherine does not possess the venom of Henry’s grandmother, Margaret Beaufort. In her day, if there had been any suspicion that Anne was seducing the King, she would have been stripped to the waist and flogged all the way down Thames Street to the Tower. As it is, Katherine smiles coldly, and pretends that she suspects nothing. She was lately in audience with Wolsey, and when the time is right I will use that to our advantage. For the time being, much though it pains me to admit it, our fortunes are aligned with his.’

  The convocation duly met at York Place a month later, and there was little difficulty in arriving at a unanimous opinion that the Papal dispensation that had authorised the marriage of Henry and Katherine would have been invalid had it been the case that Katherine and Prince Arthur had consummated their union in the few weeks before the sweating sickness claimed the young prince’s life.

  The more difficult question was whether or not the same would be true if that union had not been consummated, but it was put to one side for lack of evidence one way or the other, and because opinion was divided. For some, Leviticus only condemned such a second union on the basis of the sexual activity that would, in the ordinary way of things, have occurred within the first. However, there was a minority opinion that the ban on a marriage to one who had first been married to one’s sibling arose from the mere fact of the pronouncement of marriage by a clergyman ordained by God, regardless of whether or not ‘carnal connection’ had followed.

  There was, however, little doubt that if Henry wished to marry Anne, he would need a Papal dispensation because of his prior ‘knowledge’ of her sister Mary. Word was sent to Pope Clement that these were the combined opinions of the Legatine Conclave of England, and that King Henry would be greatly indebted to his Holiness if he could pronounce in those terms. Clement was not, however, prepared to make such a decision personally, for two reasons. The first was that he shrank from any suggestion that his predecessor in office had been in error, and the second was the close proximity of the armed forces of the Emperor Charles, many of whom had already demonstrated their lack of ongoing respect for the Church of Rome as the result of the many abuses within it revealed in the writings of Martin Luther.

  It was a deeply frustrated, and nervous, Henry who had to explain to Anne, as they sat in his private chambers in Westminster, that Clement had baulked at making a final decision, but was instead sending a new Legate over from Rome for the specific purpose of deciding the matter.

  ‘What is wrong with the Legate that he has already?’ she asked petulantly, ‘or is he so corrupt in his office that he counts for nothing? If that be the case, why he is afforded such opportunity to grow rich at your expense when he cannot make possible the most urgent of your desires?’

  ‘In what way do you say that he enriches himself at my expense?’ Henry enquired suspiciously.

  ‘My uncle of Norfolk would gladly lead an army down to Rome, in order to rattle some sense into the Pope’s head, and so as to end the hold that Charles has over him. But he advises me that there is no money for such a venture, because the royal chests are empty. But you will recall how well Wolsey was able to entertain the French king and all his nobles at Hampton, all at his own expense. Tell me, my lord, which is the wealthier — England or Wolsey?’

  ‘You misjudge the man, my sweet. He is wealthy because of the many offices he holds under my hand, and he serves me loyally in everything.’

  ‘He serves himself royally from certain of those offices, or so it is said,’ Anne replied from under her eyelashes. ‘It is voiced abroad that success in the Court of Chancery depends upon greasing the palm of the Chancellor. If a man wishes any legal ruling in his favour, or so rumour has it, he must first be in good standing with Thomas Wolsey. Now it seems we need his permission to get married.’

  ‘These bribes of which you speak,’ Henry said thoughtfully, ‘can you bring proof of any one of them? If so, I may well have to reconsider his Chancellorship.’

  ‘You might also wish to reconsider his position within the Church, if he cannot obtain a simple ruling from the Pope.’

  ‘That is a different matter, dearest. It is through men of God like him that we obtain absolution from our sins.’

  ‘And who better placed to know about sin than a man with two children born out of wedlock? A man whose gluttony is the talk of the nation, whose greed is a byword in avarice, and whose pride knows no bounds? Was it a man without the sin of pride who allowed those in France to believe him to be the King of England?’

  ‘You seem to have little regard for him,’ Henry observed, to another snort from Anne.

  ‘I despise the man. He is a living symbol of all that is rotten in the Church of Rome — a Church that would stand in the way of our innocent happiness, employing dissemblers like Wolsey to justify its continued existence.’

  ‘Have a care, my dearest one,’ Henry said, ‘else you will wander into the mire of heres
y.’

  ‘If it is heresy to save the man I love from the clutches of leeches such as Thomas Wolsey, then I will gladly go to the pyre,’ Anne assured him as she gently pulled him towards her, planted a kiss on his lips, and drew his trembling hand down the front of her gown into the warm folds of her childlike breasts.

  Henry was smiling as Thomas was ushered into the presence, and he waved a scroll in the air.

  ‘You have seen this, Thomas?’

  It was Thomas’s turn to smile. ‘Indeed I have, Hal, since it was sent first to me, and it was I who broke the seal before passing it directly to you.’

  ‘The Pope has made us the judge in our own cause, has he not?’ Henry announced triumphantly.

  ‘Not quite, if I might urge caution on that score, Hal. He has appointed Cardinal Campeggio to sit with me in a final trial of the case, and he has undertaken that he will be bounden by it.’

  ‘And you are in favour of an annulment, or so you have assured me these several years?’

  ‘Thus far, I am inclined, with the majority of the senior members of the Church here in England, to believe that your cause is a just one.’

  ‘I have heard that you take bribes in your Court of Chancery, Thomas. No, do not look so shocked, since I think naught of it at this time. But I may well incline to a different view if you cannot be persuaded to find in favour of your King, and the one who placed you where you now are. Some might call that a bribe, Thomas — I call it “a recognition of where your duties lie”, and perhaps “the doorway to your continued enjoyment of those offices”. Are we clear on that point?’

  ‘We could not be clearer, Hal, and I hope not to disappoint you. But it is not just I who will be sitting in judgment, and I may not be able to persuade Campeggio to my point of view.’

  ‘This man Campeggio, did we not appoint him Bishop of Bath when he was the Pope’s Ambassador here in London?’

  ‘You did indeed, Hal.’

  ‘And was he not therefore one of those in your recent Conclave who found in my favour?’

  ‘Unfortunately not, since he was not in the country at that time. Indeed, he has never presided over a single Mass in his diocese, since he remains in Italy while paying others to perform his offices.’

  ‘As do you, by all accounts,’ Henry chuckled. ‘But surely, he owes his income from Bath to us, does he not?’

  ‘He does of course, but he also owes much to Clement in recent years, most recently of course his appointment as Legate. From such offices are Popes chosen.’

  ‘Although not in your case, Thomas,’ Henry reminded him. ‘Had it been so, then I would long since have been free to marry again and sire legitimate heirs. Were the Church here in England one and the same with the Church of Rome we would not be conducting this conversation.’

  ‘Probably not,’ Thomas conceded. ‘On the matter of Campeggio’s impending visit, I have taken the liberty of having the bishop’s London house, which is generally known as Bath House, opened, fumigated and refurnished at the nation’s expense, in order that he may think himself well accommodated and highly regarded during his stay.’

  ‘Of course, Thomas. Just see to it that he is also well apprised of the ruling we are expecting from him.’

  XVIII

  There were months of frustrated waiting for the long-anticipated arrival, which was considerably delayed by Campeggio’s latest attack of gout, and his insistence that he would not cross the Channel in anything other than a flat calm sea. Once installed in Bath House, he then demanded several weeks in which to consider the precise terms of his commission, while instructing that suitable premises be located and fitted out for what was to be a unique court hearing in England. Those premises were eventually identified and equipped in Blackfriars, to which Henry and Katherine were summoned like common litigants in a secular cause. They were also instructed to move from their respective palaces at Westminster and Richmond to premises in Bridewell closer to the place of trial.

  On 18th June 1529, all was ready for the grand opening of the trial of the century, and it was attended by a host such as had never been seen before in a courtroom. Thomas and Campeggio sat on a high dais above the entire proceedings, and immediate across from them sat Henry under a cloth of state canopy, while several feet below him sat Katherine. The various legal officers involved in the case sat vertically below the Legates, requiring that they rise from their benches and walk into the centre of the narrow courtroom before turning to address the judges.

  And there was no shortage of them. The arguments for the King were entrusted to Doctors Sampson and Bell, both of whom were later rewarded with bishoprics, while Katherine was to be represented by Doctors Fisher and Standish. The proceedings began formally enough, with the call for silence and the formal reading of the Pope’s commission to enquire into the validity of the royal marriage.

  On an instruction from the Bench, the crier called out, somewhat unnecessarily, ‘King Harry of England, come into the court, that your matter may be adjudged.’ Henry acknowledged his presence, and then the call was made for Katherine. Instead of formally confirming that she was already present, she rose from her seat, walked to the centre of the courtroom, turned back, knelt immediately in front of Henry and delivered the longest speech in English that she had ever been known to utter. With a face racked with pain and disbelief, she called out in a firm loud voice

  ‘Sir, I beseech you for all the love that has been between us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and right, take of me some pity and compassion, for I am a poor woman and a stranger born out of your dominion. I have here no assured friends, and much less impartial counsel. I flee to you as the head of justice in this realm.

  ‘Wherein have I offended you, or what occasion of displeasure have I deserved against your will and pleasure, now that you intend, as I perceive, to put me from you? I take God and all the world to witness that I have been to you a true, humble and obedient wife. I loved all those who you loved, only for your sake, whether I had cause to or no, and whether they were my friends or my enemies.’

  At this point she looked pointedly back up at Thomas, who almost cringed under the honesty of her stare, before she continued.

  ‘This twenty years or more I have been your true wife, and by me you had divers children, although it has pleased God to call them out of this world, which was no fault of mine. And when you had me first, I take God to be my judge that I was a true maid without the touch of man. And whether that be true or not, I put it to your conscience.’

  A very embarrassed Henry hissed, and made signs with his hand for Katherine to rise from her knees and resume her seat, but there was no stopping her.

  ‘If there be any just cause by the law that you can allege against me, either of dishonesty or any other impediment to banish and put me from you, I am well content to depart to my great shame and dishonour. And if there be none, then here, I most lowly beseech you, let me remain in my former estate, and receive justice at your princely hands.’

  ‘I imagine that many a husband would like to hear such from his wife,’ Campeggio muttered in Thomas’s ear, but he was too busy to reply, taking in, as he was, the compelling justice of one of the finest defence cases he had ever heard argued. Katherine was moving towards the closing thrust of her impassioned but cleverly structured plea.

  ‘You may condemn me for lack of sufficient answer, since I have no impartial counsel, but such as are assigned to me, with whose wisdom and learning I am not acquainted. You must consider that these men cannot be impartial counsellors for my part, since they are your subjects and taken out of your own council beforehand, and dare not, for fear of your displeasure, disobey your will and intent, being once made aware thereof. Therefore I most humbly require you, in the way of charity and for the love of God, who is the just judge, to spare me the extremity of this new court, until I may be advised what way and order my friends in Spain will advise me to take. And if you will not extend to me so much impartial favour, your pl
easure then be fulfilled, and to God I commit my cause.’

  She rose sedately to her feet with the assistance of one of her Ladies who had tears streaming down her face, but instead of returning to her allocated seat, Katherine gave a low curtsey towards Henry and walked, her head held high, towards the door of the courtroom. There was a deathly hush, only broken when Henry called upon the crier to call Katherine back into court, which he did — twice. Katherine stopped briefly as she approached the doorway, turned round and instructed those who had gathered around her.

  ‘On –on! It makes no difference whether I remain or not, for this is no impartial court for me, therefore I will not tarry.’ And with that she swept out of the courtroom and disappeared from sight.

  Henry showed every sign of having been deeply moved by what he had just heard, but with some difficulty he composed himself, rose unsteadily to his feet, and addressed Thomas and Campeggio.

  ‘Although the Queen has departed the court, I will, in her absence, declare unto you, and also to all the lords here presently assembled, that she has been, to me, as true, obedient and conformable a wife as I could in my fancy wish or desire. She has all the virtuous qualities that ought to be in a woman of her dignity, or in any other of baser estate. She is assuredly a noble woman born, for if they were her only qualities they would well attest to her nobility.’

  ‘I imagine that many a wife would like to hear such from her husband,’ Thomas told Campeggio, before deciding that the time had come to clear his own name. He raised his hand for attention, and looked down at Henry. ‘Your Majesty,’ he requested, ‘I most humbly beseech you to declare before this assembled company whether or not I have been the chief mover in this matter, as I am suspected of being by many gathered here today.’

  Henry smiled across reassuringly. ‘My lord Cardinal, I can well excuse you of that accusation. In truth, you have, if anything, been against me in the matter. And so that no-one here assembled remains in doubt, let me apprise you of the special cause that has moved me to have this court convened. My conscience was first pricked by the French King’s Ambassador, the Bishop of Bayonne, while we were negotiating the terms of a marriage treaty between my beloved daughter, the Princess Mary, and the King’s second son, the Duc d’Orleans. He sought a delay in the negotiations, in order that he might advise Francis whether or not the Princess Mary was legitimate, given the marriage that had formerly taken place between the Queen Katherine and my older brother, the late Prince Arthur.