Read Katharine of Aragon Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
Katharine received him with graciousness although she did not feel the same confidence in him as she could have had in an ambassador of her own nationality. But the Seigneur, as a Flemish nobleman, was preferable, in Charles's eyes, to a Spaniard. Katharine had to remember that Charles was more Fleming than Spaniard because he had spent very little time in Spain and had been brought up in Flanders, so it was natural of course, that he should choose Flemings rather than Spaniards to represent him.
The Seigneur was a very grand gentleman and he had already been unwise enough to show his lack of respect for Cardinal Wolsey on account of the latter's humble birth. It seemed incredible to him that he should be expected to treat with one who, so rumor had it, had spent his infancy in a butcher's shop.
As for the Queen, he found her so Spanish in some ways, so English in others, that he had never felt on very easy terms with her. Moreover whenever he had sought an interview he had always found it difficult to reach her; and he suspected the reason. The Cardinal contrived this—and for what cause? Because, for all his outward protestations, he was no friend of the Emperor.
Now de Praet was excited because he had made an important discovery and was determined at all costs to lay it before the Queen. Strangely enough on this occasion he had found no difficulty in reaching her.
As Katharine welcomed him and he bent over her hand, one of the women who had been in the sewing party slipped away unnoticed from the group of women who had just left and went swiftly into the anteroom adjoining the Queen's apartment. There she took up her stand near the door and very quietly lifted the latch so that it was slightly ajar without seeming to be so.
“Your Grace,” said de Praet, “it is a great pleasure to find myself at last in your presence.”
“You have news for me from the Emperor?”
“No, but I have discovered treachery which I must immediately lay before you. Our enemy is working against us. Your Grace knows whom I mean.”
“The French?”
“
They
work continually against us. I was referring to one nearer at home who, while he pretends to be our friend and supports the King's war, is in fact working against us.” He lowered his voice and whispered: “The Cardinal.”
“Ah!” said Katharine.
“It does not surprise you.”
“Nothing the Cardinal did would surprise me.”
“What can be expected…he was not born to this.”
“Do not let us underestimate his skill,” said the Queen. “He is a brilliant man. It is for this reason that we must be very wary of him.”
“Your Grace will be surprised when I tell you that I have discovered he is in secret negotiations with the French.”
“Without the King's knowledge!”
“That I cannot say, Your Grace, but he is a traitor to my master and your nephew. There is a certain merchant from Genoa, now lodging with one of his servants, and this man is a regular go-between for François and Wolsey.”
“It is impossible!”
“Not with such a one. I can tell you we should never have trusted him.”
“The King knows nothing of this, I am sure.”
De Praet lifted his shoulders. “It is impossible to know what the King knows, how far Wolsey works in conjunction with His Grace, how far on his own account.”
“Should not the King be told of Wolsey's action?”
“If the King is already aware of these negotiations with France—and we must not lose sight of this—we should be playing into their hands by telling them of our discovery.”
Katharine was horrified. It seemed to her that Charles's ambassador was drawing her towards a controversy in which she might well, by supporting her nephew, be obliged to work against her husband. This was reminiscent of those days of humility before her marriage to Henry when her father, Ferdinand, had used her in his negotiations with Henry's father.
She said quickly: “I fear my nephew has made promises which he has not kept.”
“The Emperor is engaged in bitter war and needs all the money he can find to prosecute that war; he has little to spare for bribes.”
“He has accepted loans and has not repaid them,” Katharine reminded him.
“He will…in due course. Your Grace knows that he is a man of honor.”
“I am sure of that.”
“Then Your Grace will write to the Emperor and tell him of these discoveries? He should be warned.”
“I could not work against the King.”
“This would not be so. You would merely be telling him of the Cardinal's perfidy. Your Grace, it is imperative that he should be aware of this. I myself shall write and tell him, and to stress the urgency of the situation I beg of you to do the same.”
“I will write to him,” said the Queen.
De Praet bowed. “If you would do so with all speed I believe you would be doing your nephew a great service.”
“I will do so without delay.”
“Then I shall take leave of you that you may lose no time. I do assure Your Grace that the matter is urgent.”
As soon as he had left her she went to her table and took up writing materials, carefully considering what she would say to her nephew. She began by imploring him to be frank with her husband, to let him know exactly how the war was progressing, and above all not to make promises unless he was sure he could keep them. She added that the Cardinal was aggrieved because he believed that with the Emperor's help he might have achieved the Papacy. She implored Charles to be aware of Wolsey who was as vindictive as he was ambitious. There were rumors that he was already pondering the desirability of a
rapprochement
with the enemy. Charles must not make the mistake of so many who believed that because of Wolsey's humble origins he lacked ability; rather should he believe that the Cardinal possessed a shrewd and brilliant brain; for the more lowly his beginnings, the greater must be his brilliance, since he had come so far.
Carefully she sealed the letter and summoned a page.
One of her women was coming towards her, having slipped unseen from the anteroom wherein she had overheard the conversation between Katharine and de Praet.
“I want a page to take this to the courier,” said Katharine. “If Your Grace will allow me I will take it to him.”
Katharine handed the letter to the woman, who took it not to the courier, but to another of the Cardinal's spies. It was not difficult to find one
as the Cardinal had them placed in the most strategic positions in the Court, and one of these was undoubtedly the Queen's household.
“Take this with all speed to the Cardinal,” she instructed.
Then she joined the ladies who were stitching together and listening to
Utopia
.
THE CARDINAL
read the Queen's letter which she had addressed to her nephew. So it was known that he was in negotiation with the French! He did not relish the Queen's comments about himself; but they did not surprise him for he had long suspected that she regarded him as an enemy.
It would be unfortunate if his negotiations with Louise of Savoy through Passano were made known to the King by Charles's ambassador. He did not think this was likely, because his spies were thick about the ambassador and all his correspondence came to Wolsey before it went overseas. It was not difficult to reconstruct the ambassadorial seal; and the Cardinal had felt it was a matter of common sense that he should ascertain what de Praet was writing to his master at such a time.
If the letters contained news which Wolsey did not wish Charles to receive they were destroyed; only those which were innocuous went through. De Praet was scarcely a subtle ambassador; Charles must realize this. He would have been wiser to have chosen a Spaniard rather than a Fleming. The Cardinal had always had more respect for the solemn subtleties of the Spaniards than for the brash
bonhomie
of the Flemish.
De Praet concerned him but little for if he became dangerous some means could be found to remove him; it was the Queen with whom his thoughts were occupied. She would be an enemy of some consequence. He would never lose sight of the fact that she was not only the King's wife and mother of the heir to the throne, but also the aunt of the Emperor. Relations between the King and the Queen were not of the best; but still she was the Queen and as such wielded a certain influence.
She was therefore a potential enemy to be watched with the utmost diligence; and as the Cardinal had always believed in crippling the power of those who he feared might harm him, he began to think frequently about the Queen.
In the meantime he burned the letter which she believed was on its way to the Emperor, and decided to be ready for the first opportunity which came his way.
It came soon, as he expected it would.
He had been going over the cost of the war with Henry, a subject which never failed to make the King angry. Wolsey could see that it would not be
difficult to wean him from the Emperor, and that it was only the hope of marrying Mary to Charles that caused him to remain Charles's ally.
“This marriage is of such importance,” murmured Wolsey. “And it should be taking place within three years. The Queen already mourns because her daughter will have to go away. Alas, daughters must leave their royal homes; which is always so sad for those who love them. With sons…”
The King was startled. Few people were bold enough to mention the subject of sons in his presence. He looked at the Cardinal who was staring idly before him.
Wolsey went on as though to himself: “I do not altogether despair.”
“What's this?” growled Henry.
Wolsey made a show of appearing startled. “Your Grace, I crave your pardon. My thoughts ran on. It is unforgivable in your presence, but I forgot…”
“Of what do you not despair?”
Wolsey pretended to hesitate. Then as the King frowned he went on: “It is a matter which occupies my thoughts day and night.”
“What is?”
“Your Grace's happiness; Your Grace's contentment.”
The King looked slightly mollified but he said sullenly: “You speak in riddles.”
“Louis XII did it satisfactorily. Your Grace's sister Margaret did it in Scotland…”
Light dawned in the King's face; the little eyes were suddenly ablaze with interest. There was no need to ask what his Chancellor meant, because the people he had mentioned had rid themselves of unwanted spouses.
“Well,” said Henry as Wolsey did not go on, “what have you in mind?”
“I have spoken too soon,” murmured Wolsey. “I am certain there must be a way…I am certain that we can find it. But so far I cannot see it clearly.”
“Thomas,” said the King almost tenderly, “I have known you but once fail to reach your objective and that was when you did not get the Papal Crown.”
“I relied on false friends then, Your Grace. It is a good lesson to have learned. Henceforth let us rely on none but ourselves.”
Henry nodded.
“And you say there is a way out for me?”
“I shall not rest,” said the Cardinal, “until I see Your Grace the sire of a healthy boy…nay, not one, but several.”
“How is this possible?”
“As it has been possible for others.”
“Divorce!” whispered Henry.
“Your Grace, let us make this our secret matter. Let us keep it constantly in our minds. That is what I do when a problem baffles me. Leave it there… maturing, one might say. It so often happens that after a while the answer presents itself.”
The King grasped his Chancellor's hand.
“You bring me that which I had almost lost, Thomas. You bring me hope.” The Cardinal returned that affectionate smile. “It shall come to pass because Your Grace can only know contentment when he gives his country what it most needs.”
“How well you know me, Thomas.”
“It may be necessary for Your Grace to harden his heart. You will remember how nobly you married your brother's widow. Your brother's widow …,” he repeated emphatically.
“I know full well,” replied Henry. “But I tell you this, Thomas, though I am a man with feelings most tender, I am a King also.” The little mouth was prudish suddenly. “And I would not consider the fine feelings of Henry Tudor if my duty to my kingdom dictated that I should overcome them.”
“Then, Your Grace, let us bring our minds to bear on it… and for a time… this shall be our secret matter.”
The King was excited and well pleased.
So the battle had begun, the Cardinal told himself. Let those who set themselves against Thomas Wolsey beware—even though they be queens.
THE KING GLANCED AT HIS CONFESSOR, JOHN LONGLAND
the Bishop of Lincoln, and shook his head gloomily. He had confessed his sins and received absolution; but he did not dismiss the Bishop who waited, believing that the King had not confessed all that was on his conscience.
“Your Grace has something else to tell me?”
“A certain matter hangs heavily upon my conscience,” began the King.
“It appears so, Your Grace.”
“Then I will tell you, for it may well be that you can find some comfort
to offer me. I would have you turn to the twentieth chapter of Leviticus, and you will see what disturbs me.”