“He has always favoured France and has spent too much time there lately. And he has guided the king for so long that he can’t accept that they may not be of one mind.”
“France would be supportive of a marriage alliance to strengthen our mutual position against the Emperor,” Wolsey continued. “Some English privileges in Spain and Flanders might be lost, but this is nothing compared with the potential gains to us through an alliance. Nor would the Emperor wish to risk war or jeopardise our important mutual trade. Now that the Duke of Suffolk has returned from France, he will speak to us on this matter.”
Suffolk rose and surveyed the chamber with a detached gaze. He was looking older, Thomasin thought: still handsome, but greyer in the beard. “I met with the King of France at Blois, where he was as gracious and hospitable as ever. He is most eager for any match that would unite him with England, especially a match between King Henry and Princess Renee, which would make him a brother to our most excellent king. According to the terms of the League of Cognac…”
“Is Francis still intending to marry the Emperor’s sister?” Fisher interrupted.
Suffolk frowned. “I am sure you are well aware that those promises were extracted from the French king under duress, whilst he was a prisoner of the Emperor, and cannot be held binding.”
“Yet he has not refuted them,” Fisher added.
“Again, you will know that the king’s own two sons are still being held in Spain as hostages for their father’s compliance. It is in their interests that he does not break openly with the Emperor until their return, or until he has sufficient support behind him to do so. An alliance with England might weigh upon the Emperor and effect their release.”
“But this means a promised alliance in secret. Can we expect the princes to be returned to France imminently? If not, your time scale of an English heir within a year cannot be met.”
Suffolk looked angry. “It is a matter of urgency, upon which our ambassadors are engaged as we speak.”
“What say you, de Bellay?” asked Wolsey, motioning towards the ambassador.
“I have little to add,” the man affirmed, with waspish eyes. “All that Suffolk says about the position of my king is true. He awaits the return of his sons eagerly, but does not wish to jeopardise English plans. But is it not that king whose life is under investigation in this courtroom.”
“This is very true,” said Wolsey, “but it is the place of this court to establish the likelihood of a French match occurring in the event of it declaring the king’s present marriage null and void.”
“Surely,” snapped du Bellay, “the marriage is either null and void in the eyes of the court, or it is not. This should not be affected by the potential outcome. The king’s marriage is not yet broken, so any discussion of his next one is immaterial.”
Wolsey’s face assumed a tired expression and he sat down heavily in his seat. He motioned to Campeggio to continue.
“Setting aside the details of such a marriage,” continued the second cardinal, “the matter in hand is urgent precisely due to the king’s desire to father a son in legitimate wedlock. That cannot be denied. So, to turn back to the marriage and its dissolution: there are precedents in such cases. As we are already discussing France, I would cite the example of Renee’s own father, Louis the Twelfth, late of fame, who set aside his first wife Joan in the case of childlessness and went on to produce issue. There was also Henry the Fourth of Castile, whose first wife had failed to arouse him to, shall we say, the necessary act, so the marriage was annulled by the Bishop of Segovia.”
Beside Thomasin, More spoke out. “The Castilian marriage was annulled on the basis of the king’s impotence, supposedly as the result of witchcraft. Surely you do not suggest a parallel case here, with all the implications for a lusty king who has already fathered children?”
“I do not,” replied Campeggio steadily. “I merely say there are precedents for annulment where there is good cause. And the common cause in both those examples is the need for an heir. Or would you have the country descend again into the civil war and chaos that many of you present still recall?”
“Nobody wishes for that,” said Archbishop Warham, who had lived through the duration of the struggles between York and Lancaster, “but the country is stable, the nobles are not in conflict and the king has dealt severely with any rebels. Nothing suggests that we are on the brink of such a return. This dramatic rhetoric is unhelpful.”
“It is scaremongering,” called out More.
“And what of the Emperor’s reaction?” Campeggio fought back. “Do you think he will sit calmly by while his revered aunt is thus cast aside?”
“The Emperor who has done little yet to alleviate her situation?” said Fisher. “Who recently advised her lawyers from Flanders not to attend this court due to the potential dangers? We cannot govern this country by living in the Emperor’s pocket.”
“Perhaps,” added Wolsey, “we should all do well to remember that it is the king who governs this country, not us. We are merely his humble servants, employed to carry out his will.”
At that, the court fell silent. There was no arguing with the hierarchy that placed them all under the rule of King Henry.
“Gardiner,” said Wolsey, turning to his new assistant, “what say you, as a doctor of civil and canon law?”
“Your Holiness has spoken truth,” replied the man in a high, reedy voice. “But while there is one king governing this country, we would do well to remember that there is another above us, in heaven, whose word is final.”
Something about his pronouncement sent a chill down Thomasin’s spine. Gardiner was not wrong. God would judge them all, no matter how right or wrong they believed themselves to be.
Presently, Wolsey returned to the virtues of the French match, and More rolled his eyes at Thomasin.
“Over the years, I have come to suspect that the cardinal is actually a subject of the King of France, rather than a true-born Englishman,” he whispered. “Perhaps he should go and live there and spare us his misguided views.”
When the court was over, Thomasin and More waited for Richard Marwood outside in the courtyard. As her father approached, Thomasin could see at once that he was troubled.
“This bodes ill,” he said, as soon as they were out of earshot. “Wolsey is living in a fool’s paradise. How can he be so blind as to the king’s true intentions?”
