The Taming of the Queen

I pray for the safety of the men and women of God in England, in Germany, in every corner of Christendom, who have done nothing wrong but have read the Word of God and study it in their hearts. Then they speak. Why should they not? Why should the scholars of the church and the priests of the church and – yes – the bullies and soldiers of the church be the only ones who can announce the truth as they see it?

Stephen Gardiner, still in Bruges, still desperately trying to gain a peace treaty with France, is passionately for peace with France and Spain, arguing in favour of a bloodstained crusade against Lutherans everywhere, especially in Germany, to start at once.

‘God only knows what he is offering, what he is promising on my behalf,’ Henry grumbles to me as we sit quietly playing cards together one evening.

Around us the court is dancing and flirting, someone is singing, and there is a small group standing around us, watching the play and betting on the outcome. Catherine Brandon is at the king’s elbow. He shows her his cards and asks for her advice, and she smiles and swears she will signal to me so that I have the advantage. Most people bet on the king. He does not like to lose. He does not even like someone betting against him. I see a weak card that he plays and I do not trump it. He roars at my mistake and scoops up the trick.

‘Shall you summon Bishop Gardiner home?’ I ask as calmly as I can. ‘Do you agree with him that the emperor should make a war against his own people?’

‘For certain they go too far in Germany,’ Henry says. ‘And these German princes have been no help to me at all. I won’t defend them. Why should I? They don’t understand the ways of man, why should they grasp the ways of God?’

I glance up and see Edward Seymour, Thomas’s brother, watching me. I know that he hopes that I will use my influence to persuade the king that the Lutherans in Germany should be spared, and that the new thinking in England should be allowed. But I walk a very careful course with the king. I have heard Nan’s warnings and I am wary of making enemies. I know by now that when the king complains of one side he is often, at the very same time, working against the other. People overestimate my influence when they blame me for reform. I use my influence lightly, and there is a portrait hanging on the wall that denies I even exist.

‘Surely it cannot be wrong to think that we should live by the Bible, and that we will go to heaven by faith and the forgiveness of our sins,’ I remark.

Henry glances up from his hand of cards. ‘I see you are no better a theologian than you are a card player,’ he says. His twinkle of a smile takes the sting from his words.

‘I don’t expect to understand more about religion than you, my lord husband,’ I say. ‘And I certainly never expect to beat you at cards.’

‘And what about my girls?’ he asks, turning to Princess Mary, who stands at his elbow, while Elizabeth leans against my chair.

‘Cards or scholarship?’ Elizabeth asks pertly.

Her father laughs. ‘Which do you prefer?’

‘Scholarship,’ she says. ‘Because it is a privilege to be allowed to study, especially with a scholar like the queen; but cards are a pastime for anyone.’

‘Quite right,’ he says. ‘And only the learned and the thoughtful should study and discourse. Holy things should be considered in quiet and holy places, and only by those fit to understand them under the guidance of the church. Cards are for the taproom; the Bible is only for those who can read and understand it.’

Princess Mary nods, and he smiles at her. ‘I take it that you are not one for the wayside sermon, bawled out by any fool perched on a milestone, my Mary?’

She curtseys before she speaks to him. ‘I think the church must teach the people,’ she says. ‘They cannot teach themselves.’

‘That’s what I think,’ Henry says. ‘That’s just what I think.’