Peace be with them."
OLD MERRY ENGLAND
Cardinal Wolsey's oared galley pushed off from the Tower Bridge,
below the iron gateway. It gleamed with red and gold; flags and
sails flapped lazily in a gentle breeze. The Cardinal sat on the
stern-deck surrounded by his little court; most of his attendants he
had left at home in York Palace, later known as Whitehall. His face
was red both from the reflection of his red dress as from the wine
which he had been drinking at noon with King Henry VIII in the
Tower, and also from the new French sickness, which was very
fashionable, as everything French was.
He was in a cheerful mood, for he had just received fresh proofs of
the King's favour.
At his side stood the King's secretary, Thomas Cromwell. Both were
parvenus. Wolsey was the son of a butcher, Cromwell the son of a
smith, and that was probably one of the causes of their friendship,
although the Cardinal was by twenty years the elder of the two.
"This is a happy day," said Wolsey joyfully, and cast a glance up at
the Tower, which was still a royal residence, though it was soon to
cease to be one. "I have obtained the head of Buckingham, that fool
who believed he had a right of succession to the crown."
"Who has the right of succession," asked Cromwell, "since there is
no male heir, and none is expected?"
"I will soon see to that! Katherine of Aragon is weak and old, but
the King is young and strong.
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