The Shadow of the Pomegranate (31 page)

BOOK: The Shadow of the Pomegranate
3.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It was a week or so later when an envoy from France arrived to negotiate for those prisoners whom Henry had taken at the battles of Thérouanne and Tournai and who still remained in England.

The envoy asked if he might speak in private with the King and, when Henry received him – in Wolsey’s presence – the envoy said: ‘I have words for Your Grace’s ears alone.’

Wolsey retired with dignity, knowing that the King would
immediately pass on the news to him, and indeed having a shrewd notion as to what it must be.

When they were alone the envoy said to Henry: ‘Your Grace, I have a message from my master, the King of France. He wishes to warn you that King Ferdinand has renewed the truce he made with France, and that the Emperor Maximilian stands beside him in this.’

‘Impossible!’cried Henry. ‘This must be untrue.’

‘Your Grace will soon hear confirmation of this,’ said the envoy. ‘But my master, wishing to prepare you and to show you that he is willing to be your friend, determined to let you know of it as soon as the truce had been signed.’

The veins stood out at Henry’s temples; his face was purple and he cried: ‘The traitors! By God, I’ll be revenged for this. My friends indeed! Base traitors both. They’ll be sorry if these words you speak are truth. And if they are lies . . . then shall you be.’

‘I speak truth, Your Grace.’

‘By God!’cried Henry, and strode from the apartment; storming into Wolsey’s quarters, he told him the news.

Wolsey, who was already prepared for it, received it calmly enough.

‘What now?’ demanded Henry.

‘We know our false friends for what they are.’

‘That will not conquer France for us.’

‘A project which Your Grace will doubtless decide must be set aside for a while.’

The King’s eyes were glazed with anger, and in those moments he looked like a petulant boy who has been deprived of some much desired toy.

‘Your Grace, what else had the envoy to say?’

‘What else? Was that not enough?’

‘Enough indeed, Sire. But I thought mayhap the King of France, showing his friendship in this way, might have further signs of friendship to show us.’

Henry looked bewildered.

‘Would Your Grace consider recalling the envoy? Perhaps a little delicate questioning with Your Grace’s usual subtlety might reveal something of the mind of the King of France.’

‘What is this you are saying? Do you believe it possible that I might become the ally of the King of France!’

‘Your Grace, the other powers of Europe have proved themselves no friends of yours.’

‘’Tis true enough, by God.’

‘And Your Grace is now telling yourself, I know, that there can be no harm in hearing what this Frenchman has to say.’

‘Send for him,’ growled Henry.

In a short time the envoy stood before them.

Wolsey said: ‘Is it Your Grace’s wish that I speak of those matters which you have explained to me?’

‘Speak on,’ said Henry.

‘It would seem,’ said Wolsey, ‘that the motive of the King of France is friendship towards his brother of England.’

‘That is my master’s desire, Your Grace, Your Excellency.’

‘Then how would he show this friendship?’

‘By making a peace with the English who shall be his friends, and forming an alliance which could not but bring dismay to those who have so clearly shown themselves the enemies of both countries. He says that to show his good faith he would be happy to make a marriage between France and England. As you know, Your Grace, Your Excellency, the King is without a wife. He is still of marriageable age. The
marriage of the Princess Mary with the treacherous Habsburg surely cannot now take place. The King of France would be happy to take the Princess as his bride.’

Wolsey caught his breath. The King was astounded. This was a complete volte-face. But the treachery of Ferdinand and Maximilian rankled; and what better revenge could possibly be achieved than such a treaty, such a marriage? It would be France and England against Austria and Spain. Henry saw now that those two wily old men had wanted to set him fighting France while they turned their attention to Italy – thus widening the dominions of their grandsons.

It was all startlingly clear. And the revenge: this alliance, this marriage.

Wolsey was looking cautiously at the King. ‘His Grace will wish to have time to consider such a proposal,’he said.

‘That is so,’ said Henry.

The envoy was dismissed, and, placing his arm through that of Wolsey, Henry began to pace the apartment with him while they talked.

The news was out and Katharine was bewildered. So once more her father had shown his treachery. He and Maximilian together had been profiting by the inexperience of the King of England and had used him shamelessly: Ferdinand in the conquest of Navarre, Maximilian for the capture of those two towns which were important to Netherlands trade. In addition Maximilian had received many English crowns as payment for his double-dealing. They had endeavoured to win concessions from the King of France by informing him of imminent invasion by England so that he would be ready to make peace
with them, almost at any price in order to be free to tackle the English invaders.

Louis however had had a plan of his own to outwit them: the French and English should forget old enmities and stand together as allies.

Caroz was bewildered; he did not know which way to turn; and, as on a previous occasion, he saw that he would be in the position of scapegoat. He hurried to see Katharine and was met by Fray Diego Fernandez who informed him haughtily that the Queen was in no way pleased with his conduct of Spanish affairs.

Caroz, angry beyond discretion, pushed aside the priest and forced his way into the Queen’s apartment.

Katharine met him coolly.

‘Your Grace,’he stammered, ‘this news . . . this alarming news . . . The English are incensed against us.’

‘Against you and your master,’ said Katharine coldly.

‘My . . . master . . . Your Grace’s father.’

‘There is nothing I have to discuss,’ said Katharine. ‘I dissociate myself from the instructions of the King of Spain.’

Caroz was astonished, because he sensed the coldness in Katharine’s voice when she spoke of her father.

‘Do you understand,’ stormed Caroz, ‘that there is a possibility of a treaty of friendship between England and France?’

‘These are matters for the King and his ministers,’ said Katharine.

‘But our country . . .’

‘Is no longer my country. I count myself an Englishwoman now, and I put myself on the side of the English.’

Caroz was shocked. He bowed and took his leave.

As he went from the Queen’s apartments he saw Fray Diego who smiled at him insolently.

His recall to Spain shall be immediate, Caroz decided. It is he who has poisoned the Queen’s mind against her father.

The Princess Mary came hurrying into Katharine’s apartments, her lovely eyes wild, her hair in disorder.

‘Oh Katharine,’ she cried, ‘you have heard this news?’

Katharine nodded.

‘I!’cried Mary. ‘To marry with that old man! He is fifty-two and they say he looks seventy. He is old, ugly and mean.’

‘I wish I could help you,’ said Katharine, ‘but I know of nothing I can do.’

Mary stood clenching her hands. She was of a deeply passionate nature and had been greatly indulged by her brother. Her youth and beauty aroused his tenderness; and the fact that he was her guardian had always made him feel sentimental towards her, so that she had had her own way in all other matters and was furious that in this, the most important of all, she could not.

‘I will not be used in this way. I will not!’ she cried.

‘Oh Mary,’ Katharine tried to soothe her, ‘it happens to us all, you know. We are obliged to marry the person who is chosen for us. We have no choice in the matter. We must needs obey.’

‘I’ll not marry that old lecher,’cried Mary.

‘You’ll be Queen of France.’

‘Who cares to be Queen of France! Not I . . . if I have to take the King with the crown.’

‘He will be kind to you. He has heard of your beauty and is very eager for the match.’

‘Lecher! Lecher! Lecher!’ shouted Mary, and Katharine thought how like her brother she was in that moment.

‘He will be gentle, perhaps kinder, more gentle than a younger man.’

‘Do I want gentleness! Do I want an old man drooling over my body!’

‘Mary, I pray you be calm. It is the fate of us all.’

‘Did
you
have to marry a rheumaticky old man?’

‘No, but I came to a strange land to marry a boy whom I had never seen.’

‘Arthur was handsome; he was young. And then you had Henry. Oh you fortunate Katharine!’

‘You may be fortunate too. I am sure he will be kind to you, and kindness means so much. You were prepared to marry Charles, yet you did not know him.’

‘At least he is young.’ Mary’s eyes blazed afresh. ‘Oh, it is cruel . . . cruel. Why should I, because I am a Princess, not be allowed to marry the man of my choice?’

Katharine knew that she was thinking of Charles Brandon. The whole Court knew of her feelings for that handsome adventurer; none more than Brandon himself who would dearly have liked to match her passion with his own. And now that it seemed he was not going to get Margaret of Savoy, he would doubtless be very happy to take the Princess of England.

Mary’s defiance crumbled suddenly; she threw herself on to Katharine’s bed and began sobbing wildly.

Wolsey was directing the King’s thoughts towards the French alliance. He could see great advantages there. He believed the King was willing enough; Henry had counted on the help of Ferdinand and Maximilian to enable him to win territories in France; he had memories of Dorset’s disastrous campaign, and he had begun to see the dangers of tackling the conquest of France alone.

Wolsey was for ever at his ear, explaining without appearing to do so; carefully, skilfully planting those thoughts in the King’s mind which he wished him to have.

Contemplating an expedition to France gave Wolsey nightmares. What if they should fail to maintain supplies? What if there should be disaster for the English? There had to be a scapegoat, and that might well be the almoner who had won such praise for his conduct of the previous campaign. No, Wolsey was determined that there should not be an expedition to France this year.

There was something else which made him long for the French alliance.

He had received information from the Vatican to the effect that the Holy Father would be pleased to see an alliance between France and England and trusted his newly created Cardinal would work to that end. It was very necessary to please the Pope. It was important that the Holy Father and his Cardinals in the Vatican should feel they had a good friend in Cardinal Wolsey. It would be remembered when the time for the next conclave arrived.

So each day Henry began to see more clearly the advantages of the suggested alliance; and one of the most important clauses would be the marriage treaty between the Princess Mary and Louis XII.

In vain did Mary storm; Henry was sorry, but England must come before his sister’s whims.

He was truly sorry for her and his eyes were glazed with tenderness when she flung her arms about his neck and sought to cajole him.

Other books

Spirit of Lost Angels by Liza Perrat
Balustrade by Mark Henry
Great Bicycle Race Mystery by Gertrude Chandler Warner
Pirate's Alley by Suzanne Johnson