In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean (книги хорошем качестве бесплатно без регистрации .txt) 📗
It was a wonderful, comforting thought during those months.
I was often present when the Countess and my mother talked together. I think they had come to the conclusion that now I was aware of the King's Secret Matter, it might not be harmful for me to know more of it, for, after all, I was deeply involved in it.
Thus it was that I learned of those farcical proceedings when my father had been summoned to York Place where the Cardinal lived in sumptuous splendor.
There the King had allowed himself to be charged with immorality because he was living with a woman who was not, in the eyes of the Church, his wife.
The idea of my father's being summoned anywhere by his subjects was ludicrous. But meekly he had gone; humbly he had listened to their accusations—which, of course, he had ordered them to make. Archbishop Warham had presided.
“John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, was present,” said the Countess. “I have always held him to be one of the most saintly men I know.”
“It was Doctor Wolman, I believe, who was making the case against the King,” added my mother.
“And Doctor Bell was the King's Counsel,” said the Countess. She added scornfully, “I can imagine it. ‘Henry, King of England, you are called into this archiepiscopal court to answer a charge of living in sin with your brother's wife.'”
“It is so false. It is so untrue!” burst out my mother. “I was never Arthur's wife in truth.”
They seemed to have forgotten my presence, and I sat there quietly, trying to efface myself lest they should remember me and cease to talk so frankly.
I could imagine it all… that scene with my father looking shocked and anxious. It was a grave charge which they were bringing against him. If he had not wished it to be made, those who made it would have doubtless lost their heads by now. The case for the validity of the marriage was that, on account of Arthur's health, the marriage had not been consummated. Pope Julius II had given a dispensation, and the King had innocently believed that all was in order.
“And now the Bishop of Tarbes has said this monstrous thing …” said my mother.
She looked at me and stopped, and the Countess abruptly changed the subect.
But they had aroused my suspicions. I must discover what the Bishop of Tarbes had suggested.
They were subdued after that, and their conversation was constrained. I knew I was ignorant of a great deal regarding this matter. But after a while they could not resist the temptation to talk of it, and then they seemed to forget my presence.
The Countess said, “Archbishop Warham is an old man. Old men seek comfort. He wants to live peacefully in his old age. He will agree with all the King wishes him to.”
“And we know what that is,” said my mother tragically.
“Warham declares that, if the marriage with Arthur was consummated, you were truly his wife and therefore the King has married his brother's widow.”
“It was not. It was not. I tell all it was not. I was a virgin when I married the King.”
“John Fisher is an honest man. He declared that the Pope had given the dispensation so that the King could suppress his fears. He had no doubt that his marriage was a good one. There was a Bull from the Pope to legalize it. There was no need for the King to question the validity.” The Countess looked at my mother with the utmost sympathy and, seeking to comfort her, went on, “The King spoke so well of you. He said that through the years of your marriage he had found in you all he could hope for in a wife.”
“Save this one thing,” said my mother, “and that of the greatest importance.”
“It is only the suggestion of the Bishop of Tarbes …” She paused. Then she went on, “We know differently. It is not an unusual occurrence. It is just that this is the King…”
“And his need for sons.”
“He said that, if he had to marry again and if it were not a sin to choose you, you are the one he would marry. He would select you among all others.”
“Words,” said my mother bitterly.
#x201C;Words hiding the truth.”
They were silent again. The the Countess said briskly, “Well, they have settled nothing.”
“I believe the King is very disappointed with them. He greatly desired the matter to be settled.”
The Countess took my mother's hand and held it firmly.
“It cannot be,” she said. “The good men of the Church would never allow it… nor would the people.”
“I think you underestimate the determination of the King,” said my mother sadly.
I sat there quietly watching them. I knew this was by no means an end of the matter.
INIGO DE MENDOZA, the Spanish ambassador, called to see my mother and was with her for a long time.
The Countess was silent and withdrawn. It was no use trying to get her to talk. I wished that they would not leave me so much in the dark. They were thinking that I was too young to understand. I chafed against my youth. My future was involved. I should know. This matter concerned me. And I was determined to find out all I could.
In time I learned what was said to have aroused the trouble. It had come about during the betrothal celebrations. The Bishop of Tarbes had said that, since the King was questioning the validity of his marriage to the Queen, did that not throw some doubts on my legitimacy? The King of France was very ready to agree to a proposed marriage between his son and me if I were Princess of Wales. But how would he feel if I were an illegitimate daughter of the King?
Henry Fitzroy would be heir to the throne if he were legitimate—as a bastard he could never be that. And now some people—including my own father—were attempting to prove that I was in like case.
My father lived in fear of offending God by living with a woman who was not in His eyes his wife. My father was emphatic. He could have accepted the judgement of the Bishop of Rochester but he did not.
He had his reasons.
It was the first time I had heard the name of Anne Boleyn.
WHILE THIS WAS GOING on, a terrible event took place which was to shock the world for years to come.
It was the sacking of the City of Rome. Everyone was talking about it. Tales of horror were on every lip. It was incredible that such terrible deeds could be perpetrated by man.
Reginald talked to me about it. As a deeply religious man, he was much affected.
“There has never been such a tragedy in the history of the world,” he said. “It was the Constable of Bourbon's men.”
“The French…”
“No. No. Bourbon was on the side of the Emperor. Bourbon and Francois had been warring together for years, and Bourbon was fighting with the Emperor.”
“So the Emperor's allies did this terrible thing.”
“The Emperor would never have agreed to it. Nor would Bourbon himself if he had been alive. He was killed at the beginning of the affray. Had he not been, he would have controlled the rough soldiery, I doubt not. No man of education would ever have allowed that to happen. It is a blot on Christendom. I do believe Bourbon had no wish to attack Rome, but his men were unpaid, they had marched for miles and they were hungry. There was only one way to retrieve something from the campaign: loot. And where could they find it in more abundance than in the City of Rome? They stormed the city. There was no defense. They decimated the churches, they stole rich ornaments. They were all determined to make up for their months of hardship, lack of spoils, lack of food.”
It was hard for a girl of eleven to understand all the horrors which took place during those fearful five days when the soldiers pillaged Rome. I heard later of the terrible happenings. The nuns, hoping their robes would protect them, were seized at the altars where they knelt in prayer and were lewdly stripped of their robes and raped in the most horrible manner. Drunken soldiers roamed the streets. There were mock processions in the churches. The fact that foul deeds were performed in holy places had lent a fillip to the disgusting behavior of these wicked men. They brought prostitutes into the churches. They mocked God, the Pope and all Rome stood for.
