The words were well chosen, Henry was enchanted to hear that I was one of those who loved him.
“Sweetheart,” he said, “this book is forbidden to the country.”
“I know it well. But I must know what is being written. How could I tell you of it if I did not know? It might be setting out some treachery against you.”
He laughed.
“Come, sit down, sweetheart. Tell me more of this book.”
So I sat beside him exultantly. What had I to fear? It mattered not what I did, what rules I broke, as long as I was his darling. Rules didn't apply to me.
I said: “Henry, it is a most interesting book. I want to talk to you of it.”
So I told him and he showed interest—whether it was feigned to please me or whether he felt it, I was not sure; but he was a man to whom new ideas had always appealed, and he was a great lover of literature.
“Promise me one thing.”
“Anything you ask of me.”
“You will read this book and judge it for yourself. Then we can talk of it together. That is what I like…interesting discussion.”
He looked happier than he had for some time.
“I promise to read the book,” he said. “And then we will sit thus… close, and talk of it.”
I was very pleased by the way in which the matter had evolved.
But, Master Wolsey, I thought, I have no doubts now that you are my enemy. And you will find a good adversary in me.
The King came to me in a state of great excitement.
“News, sweetheart,” he cried. “I think this may well be the beginning of the end of our little matter. Clement is ill… nigh unto death, they say.”
“And you think his successor will be kinder to us?”
“If the right man succeeds him, without doubt, yes. Anne, it could be the Papacy for Wolsey.”
I caught his excitement. What an answer to our problem! Wolsey… Pope. And why not? It had been his lifelong ambition. He would grasp at the chance, not only because he longed to wear the Papal Crown but because he would escape from a situation which was becoming very dangerous to him.
“Do you think he has a chance?”
“The best chances. I shall support him. François will support him, I believe.”
“And the Emperor?”
“The Cardinals will vote. Will they regard the Emperor's candidate with any favor, think you? They had some rough handling not so long ago. It will take them a long time to forget the Sack of Rome. Yes, Wolsey could be the man, and I will remind him that his first task is to grant my wish.”
“He will no longer be your man, Henry. He will be head of the Church.”
“He will obey me. Nay, sweetheart, this is our chance. It will not be long now.”
Our hopes were raised. It seemed Wolsey had a fair chance. He was like a man reprieved from a death sentence. I did not see clearly then what great danger he was in. He had set the divorce proceedings in motion, and now he could not stop them; if Clement did not give what Henry wanted, it could mean the fall of Wolsey. He had made promises to the King; he had assured him that the Pope could be persuaded to comply; and so far he had been wrong. Wolsey would see more clearly than anyone that, if he failed to give the King what he wanted, it would be the end of his power; and because he had risen so high, the greater would be his fall.
It was small wonder that he clutched at this hope. From a fearful apprehension he would leap to the very heights of his lifelong ambition; from the servant of a despotic king he would rise to a position as powerful as—perhaps more so than—that of the King himself.
Wolsey was going to put every effort into achieving that ambition.
We waited. Everyone believed Wolsey's chances were high, and the result seemed almost inevitable. He was very rich, and money was important to the Sacred College. His three bishoprics and his abbey would bring untold wealth to the Holy See. He was Archbishop of York, Bishop of Winchester and Abbot of St. Albans—and he had just been given Durham.
A glorious prospect for him. The King would lose Wolsey—but not entirely so. He was certain that he would have him working for him in the Vatican. A good English Pope—and there had not been one since Nicholas Breakspear.
It might have worked, for throughout Europe Wolsey was considered to be the favorite.
Alas for Wolsey, Clement, who had wavered between the Emperor and Henry, now wavered between life and death—and finally life won. Clement lived on; there was no papal election; and the matter of the divorce dragged on.
Soon after that, Mendoza was recalled. I think he was glad to go. Everyone involved in this affair wished to be free of it.
Henry told me that before Mendoza had left he had had an interview with him in which the ambassador had said that the Emperor was obliged to defend his aunt because he regarded her plight as a private affair which touched his family's honor.
“I replied,” said Henry, “that he had no right to interfere. This was a matter of state affecting the succession. ‘I do not meddle in the state affairs of other princes,’ I told him. So we must needs press on.”
That was the state of affairs when in June the court was opened in the Dominican priory at Blackfriars.
Both Henry and Katharine were cited to appear. Henry's case was that he feared for the validity of his marriage, and he wanted the matter to be resolved. Katharine made a very dignified impression as the wife who had been set aside after twenty years. She had not believed that the case would be tried in England and had wished it to be in Rome. She pointed out that Wolsey was an English subject and Campeggio held an English bish-opric. Therefore they could not be impartial.
She demanded that the court be held in Rome. The King declared that he would certainly not plead in any court over which the Emperor had control.
After this the court adjourned for three days. Then both Henry and the Queen were summoned to appear.
Henry stated his case, reiterating that for some time he had feared that, since his marriage to his brother's widow, he had been living in mortal sin; and he wanted judgment on this.
When it was Katharine's turn, she made a deep impression on all who saw her. I had feared this. The people were already on her side. They said it was a case of a man wishing to be rid of his lawful wife because she was getting old and his fancy had turned to a younger woman. It was something which aroused indignation, particularly in the women. If this became a precedent, many of them could be set aside after twenty years of marriage. As for the men, they understood the King's desires, but they thought the matter should have been handled with discretion; I should have been Henry's mistress and put an end to the controversy.
But since I would not accept such a position and Henry was so determined not to lose me, the whole country—no, the whole of Europe— must be disturbed because I refused to become the King's mistress.
Katharine had great dignity. It was as though she was reminding all that she was the daughter of the great monarchs of Spain. Slowly she walked across the floor to the chair on which Henry sat. She knelt before him and raised her eyes to his face. I could imagine how she would unnerve him, he who liked his own actions to be seen always as right and honorable.
She said in a loud clear voice that she wanted justice. He must let her have justice for the sake of the love which had once been between them.
I could picture his embarrassment when I was told of this scene. I could see him, wretched, turning his eyes away from her supplicating figure. She was a stranger in this land, she said; and for that reason the court was against her.
Her words were remembered and repeated to me. I could never forget them. It was as though they had been engraved on my mind.
“I take all the world to witness that I have been a true, humble and obedient wife, ever comformable to your will and pleasure.”