by Field, David
The wide power that this handed to the incumbent would have blinded and corrupted men with purer souls than that of Thomas Wolsey, and he was not tardy in settling old scores, and lining his pockets with fees for early listings of matters that were bribes in all but name. One of the first to regret having crossed him in his early years was the West Country magnate Sir Amyus Paulet, who had once taken great delight in placing a somewhat portly and over-weaning parish priest in the stocks at the local Harvest Fair. Star Chamber had the authority to haul even those of high nobility before it in order to answer to actual, or imagined, charges of disorder that threatened the peace and stability of the realm, and it was on one such warrant that Sir Amyus was summoned to Westminster. A grinningly triumphant Thomas ordered Sir Amyus into virtual house arrest inside his lodgings in the Middle Temple, of which he was now the Treasurer. He was destined to spend the next six years in that bondage, and was only released when he had Wolsey’s heraldic crest carved above the doorway of his lodgings as a form of implied but permanent penance.
The power of a man who could order the confinement, in the Fleet Prison, of no less a man than the Earl of Northumberland, as Thomas did early in his office, was not only awesome to behold, but also capable of ensuring that much landed in his lap by way of ‘consideration’ for his attention to duty in a manner whose outcome suited the donor, and Thomas, despite his holy office, was no less venal in his discharge of his judicial duties, and his enemies at Court began compiling a list of grievances regarding the way in which the man conducted himself. He was no more corrupt that any other man in Henry’s service, but his accumulated wealth was likely to exceed that of the King in due course, and his enemies were awaiting that day.
When it came to ostentation of the kind that would feed the malice of those unkindly disposed towards him, and were plotting his downfall, Thomas was his own worst enemy. Not for him a modest wherry trip up-river to an industrious day spent with his head bowed over the legal rolls. Anyone who cared to stand in Old Palace Yard, by the entrance to the White Hall of Westminster in which the Court of Chancery was located, at the start of the day’s business, would first become aware of the distant sound of an approaching horse-bound cavalcade. Then into view would come the Wakely brothers carrying two great crosses of silver held high in the air, the one representing Thomas’s Archbishopric of York, and the other his Papal Cardinalate. A sergeant at arms bearing a massive silver mace would part the crowds with a demand that they ‘Make way for my Lord’s Grace’, and Thomas would appear surrounded by footmen carrying gilt pole-axes and dressed from head to foot in scarlet to emphasise their employer’s ecclesiastical status. Then he would dismount and enter the Chancery Hall, to be fawned upon by attorneys, nobles and commoners alike, whose foul breath he fought off with the aid of a hollowed out orange whose flesh had been soaked in vinegar before being replaced. The King himself would have been welcomed with little more rapture, and Thomas’s adversaries were watching.
It would be another decade before instances of Thomas’s vainglory such as this would be decanted into the ear of the monarch with whom he eventually fell out of favour, and even then it would not be solely because of his love of pomp and ceremony, nor even his vast accumulated wealth. It would be for reasons more personal, and less logical, but the seeds of this – or, more accurately, the lack of seeds – were already accumulating in the breast of Thomas’s sponsor and protector, Henry Tudor. And it all concerned the absence of a male Tudor to follow.
Queen Katherine was escorted to her latest childbed in mid February 1516, in her favoured Greenwich Palace where, on the eighteenth of that month, she succeeded in delivering a healthy child that would survive into adulthood. But she was a girl, christened Mary, and Katherine herself was now thirty-one years of age. As if to rub it in Henry’s face, he became the uncle of a nephew a month later, when his sister Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, gave birth to a boy who was named Henry, in honour of his bitterly disappointed uncle.
A disappointment that was not hidden from Thomas during his many audiences with his protector, as they constantly monitored events across the Channel, and Thomas made regular reports to Henry on the state of the nation that enabled the King to concentrate on his main interests in the joust, the hunt and assorted bedchambers. His affair with Bess Blount was now an open secret throughout the Court, and Katherine swallowed her pride and pretended to ignore the sympathetic titters among her Ladies. Bess had long since been dismissed from Katherine’s service, and for as long as Henry contented himself with just the one, Katherine could spend more of her time on her knees, or on various pilgrimages, praying for the male heir that would return her beloved Henry’s attentions to her on a fulltime basis. At the same time, Katherine was bitterly disappointed that the man she had trusted so innocently, and who was now enjoying Henry’s total trust and confidence in his new role of Chancellor of All England, had acquired such royal patronage by making a suite of rooms available at York Place for Henry to meet almost daily with his pliant – and no doubt fertile – mistress.
For Thomas, while the rewards had been great, the stress and tension of being Henry’s chief confidante were beginning to take their toll. His unctuous smile had grown a little more determined of late, and he had taken to being the first to announce his business when admitted into the presence, which was usually at Westminster, both convenient for Henry’s assignations in York Place and a safe distance from the Queen at her favourite lodging at Greenwich, close to the royal nursery that contained Henry’s only legitimate heir, the Princess Mary.
*
In the Autumn of 1517, as Thomas made the usual perfunctory bow before Henry’s padded chair in his Presence Chamber at Westminster Palace, Henry beat him to it in the choice of conversation.
‘Is it possible, say you,’ Henry enquired imperiously, ‘that two people may endure a curse intended for only one?’
When Thomas feigned non-comprehension, Henry tutted in exasperation.
‘Do not seek to evade my question with that well-practised air of ignorance, Thomas,’ Hal responded curtly in a tone that Thomas had learned to be wary of. ‘I refer to the Queen’s failure to produce an heir, as you must readily appreciate, so do not seek to avoid an answer. God has clearly cursed her womb, but is it his intention to damn the entire nation in the process?’
‘I had rather hoped to engage your Majesty in matters agricultural and diplomatic,’ Thomas murmured softly as he accepted the goblet of wine offered to him by a page on a signal from Henry, ‘but clearly you wish my counsel on a spiritual matter.’
‘Less of the “your Majesty”, Thomas. Whatever happened to “Hal”? It is your friend Hal who now seeks your honest consolation and reassurance that the entire nation of England has not been blasted to Hell through the lust and greed of a Spanish whore.’
‘Sire!’ Thomas protested, before he had time to take the hint. He realised his error as Henry’s face began to redden, and as he took his customary seat to Henry’s left he mumbled an apology.
‘Forgive me, Hal, but it grieves me so to hear you refer to Queen Katherine in that fashion. She sets an example to the entire Court with her piety and her grace, and to hear her described as a whore …’
Henry’s left fist came down on the arm of his chair, causing wine to spill from the goblet in his right hand.
‘Enough, Thomas! Your loyalty to the Queen is well known, and in one regard it does you great credit. But she is surely a witch sent to undo the nation with her machinations, and her wicked use of her body to attain the throne of England. A Spanish Plague, sent to wrest the crown from the Tudors ere they had time to settle it upon their heads. My father would have had her banished, had he but seen beyond her pious genuflections and her virgin smiles.’
When Thomas remained silent, for fear of provoking another royal outburst, Henry continued.
‘She was bedded first by my brother Arthur, well content to sell her cunny in order that her arse might rest on the English throne, a
t the bidding of her wicked father Ferdinand. When Arthur was taken from us, rather than retire gracefully to a nunnery as the Dowager Princess of Wales, she set her gabled hood at me, and I was unwise enough to be beguiled. She was, of course, assisted by the advice of others – yourself included, remember. For her unchastity she has been cursed with a womb empty of male children, and by her lust is England brought to its knees, but two generations since the usurper Gloucester.’
‘Hal …’ Thomas ventured, totally aghast at the outburst. Henry turned suddenly and fixed him with an angry glare.
‘Earn your keep, Thomas, and answer my question. Is God the sort who would curse anyone and anything associated with a daughter of Satan?’
There was no placating Henry when in one of these moods, and Thomas had gained the high favour that he currently enjoyed by being able to sniff the wind. It was time for a reassuring response tinged with diplomacy.
‘You will appreciate, Hal, that like all other mortal men I am not in daily communication with the Almighty. But, as one of His chosen representatives, I am better placed than most to penetrate the mysteries of His will. It seems to me that the curse of which you speak – should it be such – is only intended for she who has sinned, but that since your hopes and aspirations are so closely bound with hers it is impossible for you not to be affected by it. If I might draw an analogy, those who stand too close in the front line of battle to a person for whom enemy arrows are intended are more likely to be felled than those tending sheep in a nearby field.’
‘Say you, then, that were I to rid myself of her and marry elsewhere, I might have male issue?’
Thomas’s stomach lurched a warning. Whatever his reply, even in confidence, it could blow up in his face like a badly maintained piece of battle ordinance.
‘Hal, I say merely that if – and I must press upon you the “if” – God has chosen to curse Katherine, then surely she is in more need of the love and protection of a man such as yourself, who is so well regarded in God’s eyes?’
‘Do you think so, Thomas? Do you really think so?’
‘I have not the slightest doubt, Hal. Never has England been blessed with such a period of sustained peace, in which men may turn their eyes up to God, rather than behind their backs for a dagger blow. Surely God will wish to preserve such lasting peace by granting you a male heir who may continue the Tudor line that so nobly preserves the prosperity of England.’
Unexpectedly, Henry burst out laughing and clapped a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.
‘Never was shit spoken so beguilingly, my dear friend. It is another of England’s blessings that it has you to conduct its foreign affairs with such a filed tongue. So what did you have to report to me on how our interests fare abroad?’
Since it was now safe to smile, Thomas did so.
‘I have the ears of the Ambassadors of both Spain and France, and since each of them fears to be seen in the company of the other, I have been able to parley with them both without fear of being reported. Charles of Spain seeks our alliance to unleash his forces against Francis of Valois, while the French king seeks our assurance that we will do no such thing. England has become a wholesaler of peace, it would seem, and we might use this to our advantage with the Pope.’
‘Your advantage with the Pope, Thomas,’ Henry chuckled in reply. ‘Were I his Holiness, I would fear for the continued presence of my mitre on my head with such a diplomat as yourself loose among the princes of Europe. So how say you that we make best use of this new position of influence?’
Thomas allowed himself a pause, as if summoning up, for the first time, the honeyed words that he had been practising even while his latest chaplain was mumbling through his second Mass that morning in York Place.
‘Given our financial state at present, Hal, it would not be a propitious time to engage our army for either of the two young hounds who strain at the leash to be at each other’s throats. And indeed, it would be against our best interests to side with either, thereby invoking the wrath of the other. Charles cannot, at this time, be assured of the Imperial crown upon the death of his grandfather Ferdinand, and yet we must ensure his continued friendship in order to preserve our trading interests in Flanders. Francis has the greater army, and is like to break down the walls of Rome itself ere long, thereby having Pope Leo at his mercy. We would therefore be best advised to retain his friendship, lest his mighty and triumphant forces be turned against us when, and if, he proves victorious in Italy.’
‘And your suggested policy, Thomas?’
‘A perpetual peace between all the nations of Europe. The Pope is known to be anxious to promote another Crusade, this time against the Turks who dominate access to the Holy Land. If we are to attempt to broker a peace between these warmongering young hotheads across the Channel, it were best done in the name of the Holy Father. That way, we conceal our true motivation, and show no weakness or favour to either Francis or Charles until such time as we may conclude which of them is the stronger, and therefore the safer of the two with whom to seek an alliance.’
Henry smiled a broad deep smile as he gestured for more Rhenish to be poured into each of their goblets.
‘I assume that as usual I may rely on you to ensure that no detail is overlooked, once the Council approves of your suggestion?’
Thomas smiled back as reassuringly as he could.
‘There are, as you know, some who serve on your Council who favour ongoing war in Europe, ruinous though it may prove to the nation’s coffers at a time when our subjects are sorely pressed to place beef on their tables. I refer of course to Norfolk and his faction. Would it not be better to deal privily with Charles and Francis in separate parleys, then seek the blessing of the Pope, then present Council with a ready-made scheme that they would not dare gainsay, should you speak out in favour of it?’
Henry smiled once again.
‘Do it, Thomas, and do it on my authority, and with my blessing. Now speak to me of the price of beef. Have you, with your honeyed tongue, persuaded the cattle to gain weight and take themselves meekly to market?’
Thomas chuckled at the flattery.
‘I have done almost as well as that, Hal. I come direct from a hearing of a matter before the Star Chamber, in which we issued an ordinance that any London merchant found to be charging more for a carcass of meat than the just price that we have laid down will be brought before the Chamber to show cause why they should not be fined, and their stock confiscated for distribution among the poor. By this means, food prices are constrained, and the poorest in the city will have cause to call down blessings upon you for your charity.’
‘This was well done,’ Henry smiled. ‘But how does the price of meat come to exceed the resources of so many to purchase it?’
‘Enclosure,’ Thomas advised him. ‘There is irony in the fact that more beef is now available, given that arable land is being converted with unwise speed into pasture for cattle. This in turn throws the landed labourers out of gainful employment, which drives them into the towns in which they swell the population to such a degree that they create a pressing demand for food, and most notably meat, which forces the price therefore ever upward. I have just completed my second enquiry into the state of the land, and shall shortly be seeking your approval for new laws that will prohibit the more prominent landowners in the realm from allowing their tenant yeomen to enclose their lands. Since it will fall most severely upon the landed gentry such as Norfolk and Suffolk, it will require your support.’
‘And it shall have it, Thomas, if you deem it best. But is not the Church the greatest single landholder in England?’
Thomas grinned as he finished his wine and rose to leave.
‘You may leave the Church to me, Hal. Even Canterbury.’
Three weeks later, one sullen November night as the freezing fog turned the torches at the York Place entrance into pale and shimmering yellow ghosts, three men heavily wrapped in cloaks were met at a side door by a liveried steward and hurriedly
and deferentially led up a staircase to the Great Hall, where Thomas sat awaiting their arrival.
As the first of them threw off his heavy cloak and hurried towards him, Thomas first held out a gloved and ringed hand to be kissed, then threw his arms around the visitor.
‘Bienvenido, Charles. May I order some wine? Or some food?’
‘Later, perhaps,’ Charles replied. ‘I assume that this meeting is with the knowledge and blessing of my uncle the King?’
‘Indeed,’ Thomas assured him, ‘since I do nothing without his blessing.’
‘And he wishes to send troops to my cause, the quicker to relieve his Holiness of the threat posed by the French dog?’
‘He wishes his Holiness to be free of any threat from Francis, certainly,’ Thomas assured him, ‘but he wishes to do so in such a way as to save you money and men. Put shortly, he wishes to be the means by which you and Francis swear an oath of peace.’
‘Never!’ Charles spat defiantly. His eyes lit upon a large flagon that had just been placed on a side table by a page. ‘Perhaps I will, after all, have some wine, since your proposal leaves me in shock.’
‘Consider it this wise,’ Thomas urged him after he had taken several large drafts, ‘You wish his Holiness, and the Holy See in which he resides, to be forever free of the threat of invasion by France, and yet you still have uprisings of your own to fully suppress, do you not?’
Charles grinned back in embarrassment.
‘You are well informed, it would seem. Tell me, master conjurer, what did I have for dinner?’
‘Today being Friday, and you being a good Catholic,’ Thomas beamed back, ‘I assume that it was fish. And since your favourite fish is your wonderful Atlantic Salmon, I would hazard a guess that it was that.’