The Lady in the Tower (33 page)

I knew what this meant. Bourbon had been an ally of the Emperor, and Clement was in truth the Emperor's prisoner.

What hope was there now of getting the necessary sanction to the divorce which we had so confidently expected?

There was no more dancing that night. The King summoned Wolsey and retired with him.

There were several versions of that catastrophic event. It was the work of the Constable de Bourbon who had deserted François and become the Emperor's ally. It was his troops who had captured François at Pavia and handed him over to the Emperor.

Charles had honored the Constable but some of the Spanish nobles had despised him as a traitor, and there was a story that when he arrived
in Madrid and the Emperor had wished to do him great honor for the service he had rendered him, he asked the Marquis of Villena to give up his residence to be used by Bourbon while he was in the town, because it was one of the finest there. The Emperor called him the Hero of Pavia. The Marquis had replied that, since the Emperor asked it, he must indeed obey, but after the Constable had left he would set fire to it with his own hands, for he could not live in rooms which had been occupied by a traitor to his country.

I wondered about the Constable. I did not think he had been a very happy man, although he had been known as one of the greatest soldiers of our day and the Emperor, delighting to have him in his service, had made much of him. But Bourbon had been too proud to be happy serving any man. Charles had promised him Milan but he had cast covetous eyes on Naples. He had been a brave and audacious leader and had never hesitated to face danger; and the soldiery had been ready to follow him where he led.

He had gathered together a great army which included fifteen thousand
landsknechts
from Germany, many of whom had been deeply affected by the teachings of Martin Luther and regarded the Pope as the enemy of true religion. Bourbon had promised to make them rich from the treasure they would find in Rome. They would corner the Pope in his hideaway; they would help themselves to his riches… all the great fortune which had been milched from the poor in the sale of indulgences and suchlike anomalies.

They went through Italy past Bologna and Florence, resisting the temptation to plunder these rich cities because the march on Rome was all-important.

Outside the city they camped. The Constable made a moving speech, reminding them that they had come far, traveling through the bad weather of the winter; they had had several encounters with the enemy from which they had emerged at some cost; they had been hungry and thirsty; but now they had arrived at their goal. Now was the time to show their mettle. An astrologer had once told him that he would die in Rome, but he cared not. He knew what he must do. They were to attack in the early morning and if his men followed him they would take the city and be rich.

Clad in white so that his men should always see him, and to show the enemy that he feared them not, he led the assault. It was a foolhardy gesture. As soon as he started to scale the walls of the city, he was identified and hit by an arquebus shot which mortally wounded him.

His dying words were that an enterprise so well begun must be continued. Had he lived, it might have been a different story. He was a great soldier; he would have taken what he wanted from the town and made the Pope his prisoner, and the victory would have been conducted in accordance with the laws of warfare. But now Rome was at the mercy of rough, licentious and fanatical soldiery.

The Sack of Rome would surely be remembered as one of the most horrifying events of the century. Churches were desecrated; priests were murdered and nuns raped on altars. There was no end to the stories of horror, and for weeks people talked of nothing but the terrible events which had taken place in Rome.

But to us it had a special significance. For how could Clement give us the sanction we needed while he was virtually the prisoner of the Queen's nephew?

“This,” said the King, grinding his teeth, “is going to delay our matter.”

He turned to Wolsey, and afterward I learned what had taken place at that interview.

“Wolsey says the ecclesiastical court should be closed without delay. No good can come of keeping it open. We can get nowhere until the Pope is free of the Emperor. Wolsey proposes to go to France and get François to work with him. The Pope must be freed. There must be peace throughout Europe. If he could bring that about, with the help of the French, he would consider making a fresh alliance with them against the Emperor. I said to him, ‘But what of my matter, Thomas?’ And he replied, ‘Your Grace, nothing is closer to my heart, but before we can continue further we must be sure of success. We cannot proceed while the Pope is in captivity. Unfortunately we need his sanction. Allow me to proceed to France and I swear to Your Grace that I will seize every opportunity to conclude Your Grace's matter to Your Grace's satisfaction.’”

Henry looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

I said: “It seems like fate. Just now … at this time… the Pope to be taken prisoner and delivered into the Emperor's hands.”

He nodded somberly. “You'll see, sweetheart. He'll have the answer. I doubt it not. This unfortunate matter of the Pope has delayed us, but Wolsey will find the solution. Never fear. He always has and he knows that this matter is of greater importance to me than anything has ever been.”

It was the beginning of July when the Cardinal left for France. Crowds gathered in the streets to see him pass, for he and his entourage were
a splendid sight indeed. He was noted for his ostentatious love of ceremony and show, which some unkind observers said was natural since he had begun life in a butcher's shop. I was not sure of that. He did not love such things more than the King who had first seen the light of day in Greenwich Palace and had lived as a prince all his life.

But the Cardinal certainly loved splendor. His palaces—York Place and Hampton Court particularly—were as magnificent as (some said more so than) the royal residences. There was a little rhyme which the people often quoted. It had been written by Shelton, one of the poets of the Court. It ran something like this:

Wolsey had certainly made his place at Hampton worthy to be royal, and there was nothing he liked better than to entertain the King there. Henry himself had remarked on its magnificence and, I fancy, was a little envious of it. But he was really fond of Wolsey. It was not only the man's brain—and really he was amazingly astute—but something in Wolsey's personality which charmed Henry; and in spite of all the jealousy and sneering remarks which were directed at the Cardinal, Henry ignored them, or on some occasions showed his displeasure, which was the quickest way of putting a stop to Wolsey's detractors.

Wolsey took with him a large company of attendants. They were all elegant in black velvet with gold chains about their necks. Their servants must be there, and they were distinguished by their tawny livery.

The Cardinal himself was a most impressive figure. He used a mule, but what a mule! It was caparisoned in crimson to match the Cardinal's robes; and, lest anyone should forget his high office, in both Church and State, carried before him was the Great Seal of England and his cardinal's hat.

I do not think he was a very happy man. I was sure that, as far as the treaties he had in mind, he felt confident enough; it was the King's Secret Matter which gave him such concern. I believed in his heart he was against the divorce. Perhaps he thought there was still time to get a son. On the other hand, the King had no brothers, no obvious heirs, and there could be trouble for a country when a monarch died and there might be several claimants to the throne.

Perhaps Wolsey thought it was a matter with which he need not concern himself overmuch. The King was younger than he was, and it was plausible to think that he would be dead long before such a contingency arose.

And so he passed on his ceremonious way to France.

TIME WAS PASSING. Wolsey was making progress in France but he was no nearer to bringing about the freedom of the Pope.

Henry wrote impatiently. I saw the letter. It accused the Cardinal of not giving his full attention to the matter uppermost in the King's mind.

Wolsey replied that he was straining every effort. François was sympathetic and Wolsey believed that he would welcome a union with the Princess Renée.

My father came to see me. He now regarded me in a very different light. He looked at me with some wonder and called me “dear daughter.”

I was skeptical of his sudden affection for me. Of course I was carrying on the tradition of the Boleyn family, which had forced a few roots into society through the women of the house. I was about to follow the tradition—but in a much more spectacular fashion than any of my predecessors.

I wanted to laugh at him.

“My dear daughter,” he said, “you look in good health.”

“You too, my lord,” I replied coolly.

“This is a most exciting project we have on our hands. The King has told me of his feelings for you.”

“So I have found favor in your sight, my lord?”

“My dear child. I always knew that you, of all my brood, were the one with special talents.”

“Mary had some excellent talents,” I reminded him.

“Ah, your sister Mary… she was always a fool. Well, she reaped her folly. There she is… living humbly with Carey. He will never make a name for himself.”

“Except as the husband of the King's one-time mistress.”

He laughed, rather sycophantically, which amused me.

“It is you we have to think of.”

“I can think for myself.”

“I am sure you can. But the King is most put out. He thinks Wolsey is dilatory about this Secret Matter.”

“He has a big task before him.”

“I don't trust Wolsey. At this moment he is trying to make an agreement with the King of France for the Princess Renée. If he knew the King's true mind, I cannot imagine what he would do.”

“Surely he would do as the King commanded him.”

“He is a wily creature. I would not trust him. And the King has a special feeling for him. He has been talking to me. He is very uneasy about his relationship with Mary.”

“That is over.”

“But the King has qualms. He is wondering whether his intimacy with Mary might be an obstacle to his marriage with you… due to the fact that you are her sister.”

“You mean… the closeness of the relationship?”

“It is natural that His Grace should want everything to be indisputable. He wants to get a dispensation on account of Mary. He has talked of it with George and me. Wolsey has plans for setting up a papal government in Avignon over which he, Wolsey, would have full powers. This is to last just during the Pope's captivity. He could then give sanction to the divorce, but before he could do this he would have to have the agreement of the Pope. He did not think it would be an insuperable task to smuggle a man into the Castle of St. Angelo to get the Pope's agreement to this scheme. The King does not think it a good idea. It is all too slow. He wants to send an ambassador, and he has chosen Dr. Knight. He is going out ostensibly to meet Wolsey and assist him, but in fact he has a secret document with him with which he will ask for a dispensation on account of the King's relationship with Mary.”

Everything seemed to go against us. We discovered later that Wolsey's spies had searched Knight's bags before he joined him, and therefore the King's true intentions were revealed to him. This naturally made his position in France untenable. The King had betrayed him to such an extent that he was negotiating with the King of France for a marriage with the Princess Renée when all the time he was determined to marry me.

Wolsey had no alternative but to return home.

I daresay he was a very worried man. For the first time he did not have the King's confidence. The King was working against him, keeping him in the dark, which put Wolsey in an impossible position.

We were at Richmond Palace when he arrived back.

I was with Henry and a few of our special friends—my father, George, Francis Bryan, Weston, Surrey and several others.

One of the Cardinal's servants came into the palace and was brought at once to the King.

“The Cardinal is on his way, Your Grace,” said the man. “He comes straight from France and would know where Your Grace will receive him.”

I knew that Wolsey wanted to see the King alone. I was very suspicious of Wolsey. I could never forget that he had called me a foolish girl unworthy to mate with Northumberland, and because of that I always felt that I wanted to show him my power.

I said boldly: “Where should the Cardinal see the King but where the King is?”

There was silence throughout the company. I had been over-bold. But I was sure of myself.

Henry nodded and did not answer.

So Wolsey came to him there… where we all were, and the look of amazement on his face when he saw how he was received was pitiful indeed.